


Too Pretty to Die

by DecanterOfEndlessTea



Category: Pathfinder (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-10-29 00:08:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 33
Words: 155,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20787326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DecanterOfEndlessTea/pseuds/DecanterOfEndlessTea
Summary: This is a character journal from a playthrough of the Pathfinder Adventure Path "Rise of the Runelords". It contains spoilers (obviously) from Rise of the Runelords, but game mechanics are abstracted in favour of telling a narrative. Rated M for graphic violence, but only "offscreen" sex.





	1. Swallowtail

The bells of the new cathedral rang out a joyful tune as people milled about in the square below. It was the first day of autumn, and the swallowtail festival was in full swing. Musicians played, merchants hawked their goods, and the taverns had set up patios all around the square to feed the crowd. Children laughed and played in the streets.

The swallowtail festival was a religious holiday. Followers of Desna flocked to Sandpoint at this time of year. Today was the grand opening of the new Cathedral, and at dusk tonight, a wagon full of swallowtail butterflies, the holy symbol of Desna, would be released into the square. I wasn’t a religious man myself, but the festival was good for business, so I never complained.

Instead, I stood quietly in my open booth behind rows of fancy decanters, figurines, and jewellery. The sign above my booth read “Sandpoint Glassworks,” and my boss had made we wear a name tag that read “Hello, my name is Urhador” in both Taldane and Varisian. Most of the vendors in the other booths shouted out their pitches to the passersby, hoping to attract attention. But I had a more elegant way. As I passed my hands deftly over my wares, and whispered quietly in a language I did not know, sparks shot from my fingertips and illuminated the fine details of the glassware. Children and tourists were gathered round in awe as my sparks danced in and out of the coloured glass. The spark show was just a little bit of magic I had mastered to improve sales, and while the locals were used to my tricks, it was always a hit at the festival. As the crowd around me reached what I judged to be its maximum size, I decided it was time for the finale. As I raised my hands above my head, and my whispered incantation changed, a cone of searing flame shot out overhead. The audience blinked at the shear brightness. Just as quickly, the flames were gone, and the remaining sparks rained down over me and my goods. Applause followed, and a few tourists from the crowd came forward to buy some trinkets as the rest of the crowd dispersed. As money and goods changed hands, I noticed a peculiar looking couple standing off to the side, perhaps waiting to speak to me. The woman had silver-white hair, though she was young, and amber coloured eyes, and I thought she might be an Aasimar. I hadn’t seen an Aasimar in years. The man was – well – glowing. Even in daylight, his skin shone with an unnatural radiance rather like a jar of fireflies, or a shaded lantern. In all other ways, he looked rather like a half-elf, like me, and a particularly attractive one, at that. He had broad shoulders, a chiseled jaw, delicately pointed ears, and golden hair made more striking by his literal glow. The woman was wearing cleric’s robes, and the man was wearing simple leather armour. He looked like he was ready for a fight, and that worried me a little. As my last few customers filtered away, the odd couple approached me. The woman spoke first:

“Fire-thrower?” she addressed me, as if she’d been searching for me. I wasn’t entirely surprised that she knew the meaning of my name, especially as she seemed to be travelling with a half-elf, but it still felt odd to have my name translated like that.

“Yes, how can I help you? Would you like to buy some fine glass wares? We have something for everyone. Perhaps some jewellery for the lady?” I said, switching into my regular pitch. Young men like the strange glowing one could always be persuaded to buy expensive things for their lady.

“No, thank you,” said the woman, “My name is Asclepius. This is Tenebis. I have been contacted by the Empyreal Lords and sent on a holy mission. A great evil is brewing is these parts, and I am to assemble the Seven who will fight it. You are the last of the Seven.” She pronounced “Seven” like it was a title, and not just a number.

“Am I now?” I said, trying to figure out what sort of con this was.

“I know it sounds far-fetched, but she is telling the truth,” said the man, speaking for the first time. “She comes on strong, but hear her out, please.”

I planned to. This story was far to interesting not to hear, even if it _was_ a load of horse shit.

“Assuming you, and him, and me, where are the other four?” I asked.

“Over there,” she said, nodding sideways at a table on one of the tavern’s patios. I looked over to see who was there. There were indeed four other strange looking characters at the table. Nearest me was a very old, very wrinkled man with the distinctive blue skin of a Samsaran. He wore a robe of green, and by his side lay a magnificent tiger lapping at a bowl of water. Next was a small, pretty young man with pale skin, black hair, and the same unearthly amber eyes as Asclepius. He must be another Aasimar. He was taking apart some sort of firearm and laying the parts of it all over the table. Next to him was a short but muscular Oread, with skin like speckled grey stone. He sat cross-legged atop his chair, his eyes closed as if in meditation, and nursing a cup of tea. He wore baggy pants and no shirt. A bow and a quiver of arrows were slung over his right shoulder. He was well-built, with strong arms and broad shoulders, but his face was ugly as sin. Lastly, a middle aged Elf with thick, round glasses, sat there looking uncomfortable as a ferret chattered away on his shoulder. As I watched him, he picked up a glass of wine and downed it in one go.

“Splendid,” I said, “you have managed to round up an old man, a tinkerer, a simpleton, and a drunkard. At least the tiger, if it’s trained, will do us some good. We’re going to fight a great evil, are we?”

“Yes,” said Asclepius, seeming to miss or ignore my sarcasm. “I do not know the details. But we will know when it is time. Something will happen very soon to spur us to action.”

“Right then,” I said, noticing a potential customer waiting nearby, and trying to hurry this along, “you come get me when that happens. I have glass to sell.”

“We’ll see you in about… five minutes then!” said Asclepius, then turned and walked off toward the rest of the group, Tenebis in tow.

◊◊◊

Five minutes came and went, and nothing out of the ordinary happened. In fact, the whole day passed just as expected. At lunchtime, my boss told me to go enjoy the festivities for a while, but I politely declined, telling him there was a band of crazies about that I’d rather avoid. He chuckled, and let me stay. Longiku rarely laughed. Mostly, he acted like a crotchety old man, though he was only fifty. Occasionally, I found a way to tease him about it without arousing his ire, but mostly I stayed out of his way and let him be grumpy. I thought of Longiku more as an asshole little brother than as a boss, since I’d been apprenticed to his family since before he was born.

Evening came, and Mayor Deverin and Father Zantus took the stage. They made their usual speeches, a soon it was time for the butterfly release. Even I looked forward to this part. I did not worship Desna, but the butterflies clouding the evening sky was always a sight to behold. Some musicians picked up a lively tune, and father Zantus walked over to the covered wagon.

A scream pierced the air. It came from outside the square.

Silence.

Then, singing…

_“Goblins chew and goblins bite._  
Goblins cut and goblins fight.  
Stab the dog and cut the horse,  
goblins eat and take by force!

_Goblins race and goblins jump_  
goblins slash and goblins bump.  
Burn the skin and mash the head,  
goblins here and you be dead!

_Chase the baby, catch the pup._  
Bonk the head to shut it up.  
Bones be cracked, flesh be stewed,  
we be goblins! You be food!”

I swore under my breath as I dropped the decanter I was holding and prepared to fight.

“It’s starting,” said a voice behind me. I whirled around. It was Asclepius. This was no time to argue. I nodded to her and we moved off toward the sound of the goblin song together.

◊◊◊

The fight did not last long. Goblins are cowards. They hit you hard where it hurts, then they flee. I surveyed the aftermath of the battle. Wounded villagers lay about the square. Stalls had been burned. We had rounded up four goblin prisoners, and a few more were dead besides.

“Are you with us now, Urhador?” said Asclepius.

“I don’t think I really have a choice,” I replied.

“Then you must meet the others.”

I had seen them in combat now, and they were much more effective than I had anticipated. If indeed evil was brewing, perhaps we did have a chance.

Asclepius, as I had suspected from her attire, was a cleric, a healer. She stayed out of the fighting, but she kept us alive.

Tenebis fought with an impressive elven curve blade. He was brave, perhaps foolishly so, and always stood directly in the path of danger.

The old man was named Steranis, and he was a druid. When the fight started, I’d heard him mutter “not again…” under his breath, so it seemed he’d seen a lot of fighting in his long life. His tiger was named Ares, and was truly a magnificent sight to behold. Ares had ripped out the throats of two goblins in less than a minute. He was presently calm, and lying as Steranis’ feet licking the blood off his paws. Thankfully, he did seem to be well trained.

The gunman was Ulrick. His bullets seemed to have armour piercing properties, but his gun jammed a lot, and took forever to clear. That’s the price of messing with new technologies, I suppose.

The archer was Domoki. He loosed his arrows from a Zen-like trance, oblivious to the chaos around him. He must have learned that at some monastery up in the mountains.

The scholarly looking, drunken Elf was named Joanos. He fought with a sword opposite Tenebis, but could not match him in speed or strength. His ferret hid inside his pack during combat, but sat out on his shoulder the rest of the time, chattering away. I had a feeling Joanos wasn’t here for the fighting, but hopefully he had other uses.

And as for myself – I had my fire.

◊◊◊

“I have to go check on some people,” I said, after the introductions were over.

“Of course,” replied Asclepius. “We’ll catch up with you later.”

I rather hoped they wouldn’t, but I did not say this aloud. Instead, I went straight to the Rusty Dragon Inn. To my great relief, Ameiko was there. She looked like she’d been fighting, which did not surprise me. She was not injured, just dirty.

“I see you joined the fight,” I said, trying to sound stern.

“You’re one to talk” she responded, nodding at my hands, which were still smudged with ash.

“Yes, well…”

“Go check on my father, Urhador. I have people to take care of.”

And just like that, Ameiko was back to playing the good innkeeper, welcoming her guests in, feeding them, and calming their nerves. I smiled, and walked off to do as she had asked.

I crossed the bridge to the wealthy part of town and walked up the steps to Kaijitsu manor. I pulled back the heavy brass knocker, knocked, and waited. A few moments later, a window opened to my right, and Longiku yelled through it.

“What do you want?”

“Ameiko sent me to check up on you, boss.”

“I’m fine. Go away.”

_“Good to see you too, Urhador! I’m glad you’re not hurt!” _I muttered to myself, as I walked back down the steps. The magic of the festival had been broken, and Longiku was back to being a miserable old coot.

By the time I got back to the Rusty Dragon, things had calmed down. People were eating and drinking, and a few were even starting to laugh again. Ameiko sat by the fire with her lute, and played a melancholy tune.

I saw that Asclepius and her band of men had found their way here as well, and they were gathered round a table eating dinner. I decided I could avoid them until morning. I slipped away to my room in the back. Although I didn’t work here, Ameiko was like family to me, and she had offered me a permanent room at the inn some years ago. It was much nicer than the dormitory at the glassworks, and it gave me some measure of privacy. The walls were thin though, so I could always hear what was happening out front. I didn’t mind, as it meant I heard more of Ameiko’s music. I closed my eyes, and the calming notes of the pentatonic scale lulled me to sleep.


	2. Local Heroes

I woke up the next morning feeling refreshed and invigorated. I hadn’t used so much magic all at once in years. There had been no need. I dressed, and headed out to the front room for breakfast. Most of the guests who stayed at the inn were late risers, so I usually ate breakfast alone or with Ameiko before the breakfast rush started. However, this morning, my new “friends” were already up and gathered around a table. I decided I couldn’t ignore them any longer without being rude, so after a quick detour into the kitchen to grab a plate of eggs, I sat down with them. Domoki offered me some tea, and I noticed it wasn’t one of kinds Ameiko kept stocked. He must bring his own tea when he travelled. Across the table, I noticed Joanos had already started in on the wine. Just as Ulrick was finishing telling a clearly exaggerated tale of one of his past adventures, the front door swung open and Sherriff Hemlock strode in.

Apparently after I’d left, the others had taken our goblin prisoners to the garrison, and asked to be contacted when they awoke. The prisoners we had taken had come to during the night, and the rest of the group seemed intent on questioning them. I agreed to go with. I figured if anyone could get them to talk, it was me. We finished our breakfast and headed off to the garrison. On the way there, Sheriff Hemlock briefed us on what they had already figured out.

“Last night’s attack seemed to have consisted of about 30 goblins. The curious thing is, based on their clothing, they seem to have come from several different tribes. And the first thing anyone knows about goblins is that they do _not_ work together, at least, not of their own accord. If goblin tribes are attacking on the same team, they’re working for someone higher up. We don’t know who, and that worries me. I doubt this’ll be the end of it, either. If someone’s bringing together the goblin tribes, they have something big in mind.”

We arrived at the garrison. Two prisoners were awake, and they had been separated. Ulrick and I took one each. Domoki came with me, saying he had a knack for knowing when people were lying. As I entered the cell, the goblin scampered to its feet and hissed. It didn’t seem afraid of me, so I decided to go the diplomatic route.

“Sit down, buddy. I just want to talk.”

The goblin didn’t respond, but he appeared to be listening, and at least understood the common tongue. I’d take what I could get.

“Listen. _You_ like setting things on fire. _I_ like setting things on fire. We have a lot in common, you and I.” I flicked some sparks across my knuckles to illustrate my point. “I got no quibbles with you. In fact, I think it was rather brilliant the way you orchestrated the attack: sneaking past the gates unseen; hitting during the festival, when everyone was outside. Clearly you have a military _genius_ on your side.” I thought perhaps I was laying it on a little thick, but I watched the goblin’s face and he seemed pleased, so I kept going. “I simply _must_ know who he is. Who are you working for?”

“Ripnugget brilliant! Ripnugget always know when to strike! Ripnugget great leader!” boasted the goblin, in his shrill, nasally voice.

Ripnugget sounded like a goblin name. That was _not_ what I was after. “Ripnugget is the chief of your tribe?” I asked.

“Yes, yes, Ripnugget great chief! Ripnugget always triumphant in battle!”

“I’m sure he is. But is there anyone else? Someone who’s not a goblin? Perhaps a longshanks who’s working on your side?” I probed, using the goblin’s word for the taller races: humans, elves, and so on.

“Oh, yes. I saw a longshanks talking to Ripnugget.”

“Do you know his name? Her name?”

“No, no, don’t know who the longshanks is. Doesn’t matter. I do what Ripnugget says.”

“Do you know what species the longshanks was? Man or woman?”

“Oh, I don’t know, I don’t know. All you longshanks look the same!”

Clearly, this was going nowhere. I tried a few more angles, but it became very clear that this goblin was just a cog in the machine, and didn’t know a thing of the overall plan. He followed orders. I nodded to Domoki, and we left the cell. Domoki assured me that he hadn’t just been feigning ignorance.

I compared notes with Ulrick afterward, and it seemed he hadn’t been any more successful than I. His goblin had been from a different tribe, but like mine, knew nothing beyond his small part to play.

I was late for work, and just as I was about to leave, I noticed Father Zantus arrive and ask to speak with the Sheriff. They spoke in hushed tones, and after a few minutes, Sheriff Hemlock glanced over at us.

“I think we should tell them,” said Sheriff Hemlock, “they’ve been very helpful so far.”

“Very well,” said Father Zantus, cautiously, “but I am trying to keep this quiet.”

Hemlock turned to the group of us and said “If you wouldn’t mind, the Father has something he needs to show you. Perhaps you can make sense of it.”

The others all stood up to follow father Zantus back toward the Cathedral. I paused for a moment, pondering the relative consequences of being even later for work, or of refusing a request from both the Sheriff and the Priest. I shrugged, and joined the group.

When we got to Cathedral, I was surprised to see Father Zantus keep walking. We passed the Cathedral, and followed the Father into the cemetery. He led us to Father Tobyn’s grave. Father Tobyn was the town’s former priest. He had died in church fire five years past. As we neared the crypt, I saw that the door was open.

“His body has been taken,” whispered the Father.

As we inspected the area, we found footprints to explain the disappearance. The cemetery was at the edge of town, and nothing lay between it and the village walls. Someone had climbed over the wall directly behind Father Tobyn’s crypt, stolen his remains, and left with him, back over the wall. The prints crossed each other here and there, but all in all, Steranis judged there to be four or five goblins, and two larger sets of human-sized footprints.

“We need to find where they’ve taken the body,” I said, “no doubt they’re doing some sort black magic with it already.”

After some brief preparations, we circled to the outside of the village wall, and found the place where the footprints crossed it. Steranis followed the tracks, and we followed Steranis. Domoki and I took the rearguard. We talked as we walked, and he turned out to be a rather interesting fellow, and not nearly as naïve as I had initially judged him to be. We headed east along the road for some time. When we’d been walking for about an hour, we came to a place where the road ran alongside a shallow cliff.  
  
“Seems like the perfect spot for an ambush,” said Joanos. The ferret chattered in agreement. We laughed nervously.

Sure enough, half a mile further down the road, six goblins popped out from behind boulders and started shooting at us.

“Aha!” I heard one yell to his friends, “Silly longshanks! Taking the road! Hahaha!”

They had the advantage of terrain, so we weren’t able to get all up in their faces like yesterday. Tenebis and Joanos were almost useless, and Domoki, Ulrick, and I were caught in the open as we pelted the goblins with arrows, bullets, and magic missiles. Ares, Steranis’ tiger, charged, took a great leap over a boulder, and landed on a goblin. We managed to kill four of the goblins, and the other two fled. Domoki kept shooting at them as they ran. He finished off one, but the last got away.

We looted the bodies, and stopped to assess the situation. Asclepius and I had both used more than half of our spells. We could keep going, but another ambush might not end so well for us.

“Well, I’m pretty sure I know where they’re going by now,” I said, “Thistletop is this way. There’s a tribe of goblins that live there.”

We decided to come back another day, with a better plan and some way to sneak up on them. We headed back to town.

It was midafternoon by the time we got back to town, and Sherriff Hemlock was waiting for us. We told him what we had found, and he seemed unsurprised. He had decided to go to Magnimar to get re-enforcements for the town guard. He’d be gone a week. In the meantime, he asked us to keep an eye on the village for him. People had started to gossip about the “new heroes in town,” and Hemlock seemed to think they’d feel safer if we stuck around. None of us thought we were particularly ready to raid a goblin stronghold anyway, so we agreed. Hemlock thanked us, and rode off toward the big city.

◊◊◊

I figured by now that it was too late to go to work today, and might as well take the rest of the afternoon off. I showed Domoki around town, and he bought some new arrows at Savah’s Armoury. We all met for dinner back at the Rusty Dragon.

During dinner, we were approached by a pretentiously dressed man who introduced himself to us as “Lord Aldern Foxglove”. I recognised the name, but didn’t recognise his face at first. Then I remembered I’d seen him cowering behind a stack of barrels during the goblin attack. I decided he’d probably rather I not mention that. He thanked us for our part in saving the town, and passed out some small pouches of gold as a reward. The he invited us to join him on a boar hunt he had planned for tomorrow. Since we’d promised Sheriff Hemlock we’d stay in the area, and since most of us had nothing better to do, Tenebis agreed on behalf of the group.

◊◊◊

The next morning, I got up early, ate alone, and left for work before any of the others were awake. I couldn’t skip out completely on work, after all, and we had nothing planned for today other than the boar hunt. I figured that would be fine to skip. I spent the morning trying to regain a sense of normalcy as I went through the motions of my trade. Working with glass was calming and methodical. I kept my thoughts on the cat figurine I was making, and almost succeeded in forgetting about everything that had happened in the last two days. In the early afternoon, however, Asclepius interrupted my reverie. She must have charmed her way in somehow, because guests were seldom allowed past the display room unless they were big customers.

“Urhador, we have boar hunt to be going on.”

“I can’t,” I stated flatly. “As you may have noticed, I have a job.”

“You are one of the Seven now. I’d appreciate it if we could appear as a cohesive group.”

“What is so important about this boar hunt?” I inquired.

_“Aldern is buying us horses!”_ she whispered, conspiratorially.

“What, you mean like, for free?”

_“Yes.”_

“Oh. Well then why didn’t you say so?”

I lay down the cat figurine and skipped out on work for another day. I’d get a lecture from Longiku, but I was used to those, and it was worth it for a free horse.

We met up with the others at the stables, and Lord Foxglove did indeed buy us horses. Mine was a gelding, and I named him Jack.

We rode out to Tickwood, and Foxglove’s dogs sniffed around until they caught a trail. This method of hunting hardly seemed fair to the boar, but I didn’t say anything. The man had just bought me a horse. Foxglove rode with Tenebis at the front, asking him questions and seeming very interested in his “hero’s life.” We found a boar, and someone shot it, and Steranis seemed disgusted by the whole ordeal. We brought the boar back to the Rusty Dragon, and Foxglove dropped it off at the kitchen for Ameiko to prepare. I helped her gut the beast, and she roasted it. Ameiko wouldn’t let me pay for my lodging, but I felt better when I worked for my keep. Plus, that Foxglove fellow seemed slimy to me, and I’d rather not spend any more time with him than necessary. Fortunately, he seemed so interested in his conversation with Tenebis, he didn’t notice or care that I was gone.

◊◊◊

The third morning, I tried to pull my “early breakfast and out the door” stunt again, but the others got up early too, and cornered me. We had gotten hallway through breakfast when the front door slammed open and a young boy ran in.

“There’s a goblin in my closet! Help! Help! There’s a goblin in my closet!” He yelled, as he ran towards us.

“Honey, goblins don’t live in closets,” I started to say, but just then the door swung open and boy’s mother rushed in with another child on her hip. I recognised the woman as Amele Barrett.

“Please, he’s telling the truth,” she said, “there _is_ a goblin in his closet! I don’t know how it got there. Alergast stayed to hold him off, and I came here directly to find you. Please help!”

Abandoning our breakfasts, we all got up and ran out the door.

We got there too late.

When we reached the top of the stairs in the Barrett’s house, and peered into the child’s room, I saw the boy’s father face down, halfway out of the closet. He wasn’t moving.

The goblin was still there, and we made quick work of him. Tenebis pulled Alergast out to see if he could still be saved. Tenebis flipped him over onto his back, and grimaced at the gruesome sight. Raw muscle and bone were exposed down the left side of his face, down his neck, and halfway down his chest. The goblin had been eating him. Asclepius shook her head sadly.

I ran off to the church to find Father Zantus. Amele shouldn’t be alone at a time like this. Father Zantus came right away, and when we got back to the house, we found Amele sobbing in Asclepius’ arms. Ulrick was trying to distract the boy, and Domoki was standing off to the side with the baby in his arms, somewhat perplexed as to what to do with it. Father Zantus went over to comfort Amele, and I decided I’d better find out what had happened. The boy seemed not to have grasped the gravity of the situation quite yet, and he seemed like my best bet. I sat down next to the boy.

“Hi. What’s your name?” I asked.

“Aeren,” he said quietly.

“Hi Aeren. I’m Urhador. I need you to tell me what happened.”

“The – the goblin,” he stammered, “it’s been living in my closet. It’s been there for three days, but Mom didn’t believe me. It tried to come out at night, and Petal scared it back in.”

“Who is Petal?” I asked.

“Petal is – she’s my puppy.”

“Where is Petal now?”

“The – the goblin got her.”

“I’m so sorry,” I said.

“This morning, the goblin came out and he had a knife this time. He got petal. And then he came for me. He was biting me and I screamed.”

“He bit you? Where did you bite you? Is it still bleeding?”

The boy turned his arms outward and showed me the insides. They were covered in bite marks, but it looked like Asclepius had seen to it. Scar tissue was already forming.

“Then – then Daddy heard me screaming and he came for me,” the boy continued. “And he had a bat and he was hitting the goblin and it looked like he was gonna win. And I ran out to find Mommy, and she took me to you. Is Daddy gonna be ok?”

My stomach lurched as I realized I would have to be the one to tell him. He didn’t yet know that his father was dead.

“Aeren, I’m sorry. Your Daddy was a hero. He saved your life, because he loved you so much. But he didn’t win. Daddy’s not coming back, Aeren. I’m so sorry.”

Aeren stared at me silently for a moment.

“NO!” he yelled. “Daddy was winning! I left to get Mommy because Daddy was winning! No! I shouldn’t have left him alone. I should have stayed and fought with Daddy. It’s my fault! I should have stayed!”

“No, Aeren, please, it’s not your fault,” I said, gathering the boy into my arms. “You did the right thing. Daddy would be proud of you. You got your Mommy and your baby sister out safely. You did the right thing.” I repeated.

Aeren buried his face in my shoulder and sobbed.

◊◊◊

I spent the rest of the day with Aeren. His mother had enough on her hands, and I felt it was the least I could do. We spent the morning at the beach, and Aeren told me stories about his father. After lunch, I went to the stables and took out my horse, Jack, and Domoki’s mare. I didn’t think Domoki would mind. I took Aeren out for a ride in the farmlands. He had never ridden before, but his horse was gentle, and Aeren took to it like a natural. When we parted in the evening, Aeren made me promise to avenge his father.

“The goblin that killed your father is dead, Aeren. He has already been avenged.”

“I know,” he said. “But not _every _goblin is dead. You have to kill them all, or they’ll keep coming back.”

He looked at me with earnest eyes that spoke of absolute certainty that I, Urhador, must be capable of taking out several goblin tribes. His faith in me warmed my heart.

“I’ll try, Aeren. I promise I will do everything I can to stop the goblins from coming back.”

Aeren hugged me, then ran inside to his mother.

◊◊◊

I went back to the Rusty Dragon for dinner, and the others were there. Ameiko came of the kitchen and handed an envelope to Tenebis.

“I was asked to deliver this,” she said, with a half smirk.

Tenebis opened it, and read the letter inside silently. He appeared to be blushing.

“Apparently, I have a secret admirer,” he said, and pulled something else out of the envelope. It was a locket, which he opened to reveal and small lock of bright red hair. He turned it towards me.

“Urhador, any idea who this might be from?”

There were a few people in town with hair that colour. But only one would have sent a love letter to the local hero.

“Shayliss Vinder, the little vixen,” I said, “thinks she can catch herself a hero.”

“Oh?” said Tenebis. “What’s the story there?”

“Her sister, Katrine, has a new boyfriend, and their overprotective father is up in arms about it. Shayliss doesn’t like Katrine getting all the attention, so she seems to be trying to outdo her sister. She’s been flirting her way all across town lately, and her father has been so focused on Katrine that he hasn’t even noticed. It’s quite amusing to watch, actually.” I recounted. “Now that there are new heroes in town, it’s no wonder she’s latched on to one.”

“Wonderful,” said Tenebis. “I have a fan girl.”

“Would you like me to introduce you?” I teased.

“No, thank you. That won’t be necessary.”

◊◊◊

Ameiko brought out dinner, and since the Inn was mostly empty tonight, she sat down and ate with us. It seemed by now that our group was cursed with the inability to finish a meal in peace, because halfway through dinner, when Ameiko had gotten up to get some drinks, the door slammed open once again, and Longiku stormed in, yelling something in Tien. Ameiko had tried to teach me Tien when she was little, but I was hopeless at it. All I caught from Longiku’s long tirade was a few family names, including Ameiko’s, and the word “shame” repeated several times throughout. Ameiko came out from the kitchen holding a frying pan, and calmly listened through her father’s fit of rage. When he finally reached the end of what he had apparently come here to say, he glared at Ameiko, waiting for some sort of response. None came. She stared boldly back, unblinking.

“Now you won’t even answer me? How dare you? Back home, children had respect for their parents!” he continued, switching to Taldane so we could understand.

I found it somewhat amusing to hear him refer to Tien Xia as “home,” given that he had been born in Magnimar.

Then, to my shock, Longiku raised a fist and swung at Ameiko. She dodged it easily. I started up from my chair to come to her aid, but before I even reached my feet, Ameiko swung back with the frying pan and connected. Longiku was stunned. It was a heavy, cast iron pan, and she could easily have knocked him out with it, but she was holding back. I sat back down. Ameiko could clearly take care of herself, but I often forgot how competent she was at fighting. Longiku yelled a few more choice insults in Tien and stormed back out the front door.

I waited until he was gone, then went to speak with Ameiko in the kitchen.

“What was that all about?” I asked.

“My father – just disowned me,” she said, slowly, She was clearly still absorbing it herself.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, Urhador,” she replied, her face softening, “you’ve been more of a father to me than he ever was.”

I smiled at the compliment. I knew what she meant. Her father never had time for her when she was a child, and her mother had often left her with me when she had business to attend to. I had taught Ameiko how to fish and how to ride a horse. I had taught her the Elven language, and she had tried to teach me Tien. I had sung to her, and she had taken up the lute so she could accompany me.

“It was nothing,” I said.

“It was everything,” she answered, and folded her arms around me in an embrace.

I held her for a moment while she composed herself. Then she removed herself from the hug and spoke once more.

“I’ll be ok, Urhador. I promise. Go back out there and be with your friends.”

I went back out there, but I didn’t join my “friends”. Instead, I headed straight out the front door.

“Where are you going?” yelled Ameiko, through the window, as she saw me leave.

“To quit my job!” I yelled back. “I won’t have your mean old father making any more money off of me, not after what he just did to you!”

◊◊◊

I got to Kaijitsu manor only a few minutes after Longiku. He answered the door himself, and he was clearly still angry.

“Stay out of this, Urhador,” he warned. “It has nothing to do with you.”

“I quit.”

He paused for a moment, taking it in.

“Good. You’ve been missing too much work lately anyway. I was of half a mind to fire you myself.”

“Fifty one years of service, Longiku,” I said, in a measure tone. “I have worked for your family since before you were born. And all I get is a good riddance. Well fuck you too, Longiku. If I ever want to come back, I’ll start my own glassworks. Ameiko will fund me.”

I knew that was a low blow, even as I said it, but at this particular moment, I just could not bring myself to care. I dropped my key to the glass works on his front steps, turned on my heel, and strode away. It felt good.

◊◊◊

When I got back to the Rusty Dragon, I went to check on Ameiko. Her door was open, so after knocking on the frame and getting no answer, I poked my head into the room. Ameiko was sitting on her bed, contemplating a candle flame.

“May I come in?” I asked.

“Sure,” she said. I walked in and sat down on the edge of the bed. I flicked my finger through the candle flame, and for a moment it took the shape of a tiny Dragon. That always used to make her laugh.

“Did you really quit your job?” she inquired.

“Yes.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yes, I did,” I said, earnestly. “Besides, I’ve heard a rumour that there are some new heroes in town. Maybe I can join them and go on grand adventures and get rich.”

I don’t know why I tried to make a joke about that. She didn’t laugh. I decided to stop dancing around the topic that brought me here. I took a deep breath.

“When did your father start hitting you, Ameiko?”

“What? No. It’s not like that. That was the first time.”

“Don’t lie to me, Ameiko. You went into the kitchen for drinks. Then you heard him yelling, and you came out with a frying pan. You anticipated the need to defend yourself from a physical attack. How long. Has your father. Been hitting you?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay,” I sighed. “You know where to find me if you change your mind.”

“Thanks, Urhador.”

I got up and walked to the door.

◊◊◊

The next morning, my body woke me up at sunrise, like it usually did. Then I remembered I didn’t have a job anymore, so I went back to sleep for another hour.

When I got the front room, the rest of the party had already eaten breakfast and scattered. Ameiko was in the kitchen, but she didn’t want to talk. I decided to go check on Aeren.

Amele answered the door when I knocked. When she saw who it was, she yelled back into the house.

“Aeren! Your friend Urhador is here!”

Aeren ran to the door.

“Urhador! I need your help!” he said.

“Your wish is my command,” I teased. “What can I do for you?”

“I need you to help me find a job.”

“I think you’re a little young for that, Aeren.”

“I’m the man of the house now,” he said, earnestly. “I have to support my Momma and my baby sister.”

“Oh, Aeren, it’s not like that,” I began. I looked up at Amele, who stared back at me with pleading eyes. I saw that it _was_ like that.

“Please?” continued Aeren.

“Oh, alright then,” I said, “let’s see what we can do.” I nodded to Amele, and Aeren and I walked off together.

“Can I work with you, at the glassworks?” he asked.

“No,” I said simply. “I don’t work there anymore,” I explained, which was technically true, though not the reason I wouldn’t let him work there. I hoped he wouldn’t ask any more questions about that. “Let’s try the carpenter’s,” I deflected.

“Okay!” said Aeren.

There was no work for him at the carpenter’s, nor at any of the taverns or the shops. I refused to contemplate the glassworks, so finally we turned toward the Blacksmith’s. It took some convincing, but eventually Das agreed to take the boy on as an apprentice. I negotiated his pay and hours of work, and when we’d come to an agreement, Das shook my hand, and said,

“Well, he might as well get started today.”

I promised Aeren I’d pick him up in the evening and take him home, and he seemed satisfied. I left him to get started on his new job.

◊◊◊

I wandered around town for a while, unsure of exactly what to do with myself now that I was out of a job. It occurred to me that if I planned to go attack Thistletop when Sheriff Hemlock returned from Magnimar, I should buy myself some adventuring gear. I got a list from Ameiko (she’d been an adventurer once too, though only for a short time) and started my shopping. I bought cooking gear; a hanging tent; rope; chalk; a grappling hook. I made a note to pack my fishing gear when I got home. Finally, I bought a crossbow and some bolts for if my magic ran out.

I ran into Tenebis on the way back to the inn. He was apparently deciding what to do about his secret admirer. He asked if me where he could find her.

“Well, I don’t keep tabs on her or anything, but her family owns the general store down the road,” I offered. “Of course, she’s just as likely to be in some tavern or other, these days.”

Tenebis headed off toward the store. I couldn’t resist a juicy piece of gossip, so I followed subtly behind him. As I walked behind him, I noticed Tenebis look down at his hands, take off a ring, and move it to the fourth finger of his left hand. When he got to the store, I stayed outside, leaning on a wall and peering in the large plate glass window out the corner of my eye. Tenebis walked up and down a few aisles, looking for Shayliss, I suppose, but she wasn’t there. I expected him to come right back out at that point, but to my surprise, he walked up to the counter and started speaking to Ven.

I couldn’t hear what was going on from my stakeout location, so I walked into the store and pretended to look at some pies so I could listen in.

“Sir, I need to speak with you about your daughter,” whispered Tenebis.

“What has Katrine gone and done this time?” sighed Ven.

“Um – no, your other daughter – Shayliss…”

“Shayliss? Well, what about her?” asked Ven, surprised.

“She sent me this,” explained Tenebis, pulling out the locket and opening it to show the lock of bright red hair inside.

“Well, that’s inappropriate!” exclaimed Ven.

“I thought so too,” said Tenebis, handing the locket to Ven with his left hand, and seeming to take extra care to show the ring on his fourth finger.

“Thank you for bringing that to my attention,” said Ven. “I shall have – a word with her.”

Tenebis left the shop, and I bought a pie, so as not to look like I’d been eavesdropping. Once I got outside the shop, I jogged to catch up to Tenebis. As I approached him, he was returning his ring to its usual finger.

“Playing at being a married man, are we, Tenebis?” I teased.

“It seemed the surest way out of this.”

“Aw, you’re no fun. You’re a hero now! You’re young, and handsome, and all the ladies are swooning over you! Enjoy it!”

Tenebis chuckled.

“And have you followed this advice of yours yourself, Urhador?” he asked.

“Remind me when we go to Magnimar. I don’t have a lot of options here in Sandpoint.”


	3. Betrayed

It was the second morning since I’d quit my job, and I was beginning to think I could get used to sleeping in. It was not to be. I was awoken from my slumber by a loud knock at my bedroom door.

“I’m coming!” I yelled, as I crawled out of bed and threw on a robe. I opened to door to see Bethana, the Halfling woman whom Ameiko employed as a maid.

“What is it?” I asked, confused.

“It’s Ameiko. She’s gone. I think you’d better get your friends.”

The urgency in Bethana’s tone told me not to ask questions. I woke the others, and brought them down to the front room. Bethana was waiting.

“I woke up this morning and went down to the kitchen for tea,” she explained. “Ameiko wasn’t there. I was worried, because Ameiko is always there early, starting breakfast. I went to her room, and knocked. She didn’t answer. This was very unlike Ameiko, you understand. She never sleeps in. Against my better judgement, I opened the door and walked in. Ameiko wasn’t there, and her bed had not been slept in. Then I found this:”

She handed me a wrinkled piece of parchment. It was written in Tien. I glanced at the bottom of the page, where it was signed “Tsuto.”

“I translated it for you, on the other side.”

I turned it over to see Bethana’s neat handwriting, in Taldane.

_Hello, sis! _

_I hope this letter finds you well, and with some free time on your hands, because we’ve got something of a problem. It’s to do with father. Seems that he might have had something to do with Sandpoint’s recent troubles with the goblins, and I didn’t want to bring the matter to the authorities because we both know he’d just weasel his way out of it. You’ve got some pull here in town, though. If you can meet me at the Glassworks at midnight tonight, maybe we can figure out how to make sure he faces the punishment he deserves. Knock twice and then three times more and then once more at the delivery entrance and I’ll let you in. In any case, I don’t have to impress upon you the delicate nature of this request. If news got out, you know these local rubes would assume that you and I were in on the whole thing too, don’t you? They’ve got no honor at all around these parts. I still don’t understand how you can stand to stay here. Anyway, don’t tell anyone about this. There are other complications as well, ones I’d rather talk to you in person about tonight. Don’t be late. _

_Tsuto_

Tsuto was Ameiko’s half-brother. He was several years younger than her, and he was a half-elf. When Longiku had first laid eyes on the baby boy with the little pointed ears that his wife had birthed – the child that was supposed to be his – he had ripped the child from Atsuii’s arms and marched him straight down to the orphanage. There he left the boy on the front step, turned away, and never looked back. Atsuii was forbidden to see her son. Ameiko naturally heard the rumours about her brother, and soon she began to sneak down to the orphanage and visit Tsuto, bringing him food and stories. Six years ago, they’d had a terrible argument, and fallen out of contact. Ameiko had left town to become an adventurer, only coming back for her mother’s funeral a year later. There, Tsuto had accused Longiku of Atsuii’s murder, they’d had a screaming match, and Tsuto had left town for good. Ameiko stayed and started up the Rusty Dragon, which she’d been running ever since. Ameiko had tried to contact her brother a few times since, but she’d never been able to track him down.

Now, it seemed Tsuto was back in town. The meeting he’d suggested had been at midnight, and if he’d really just wanted to talk, she would have been back by now. Ameiko was in trouble, and it was time to mount a rescue.

I sketched out a map of the glassworks for the others. I pointed out all of the exits, and which way the doors opened. If we were going on a rescue mission, it was best we be prepared.

The sun was just rising over the trees to the East when we arrived at the glassworks. We tried the doors, and they were all locked. The curtains were drawn. None of us wanted to make too much noise – no need to alert those inside that we were coming – so we all stood aside as Joanos silenced his ferret, then picked the lock on the back door. With a soft click, the lock turned, and Joanos quietly opened the door and stepped aside. Tenebis went through first, and I followed him.

We were in the hallway, and from the main workroom, I heard giggling – not children, I feared, but goblin laugher. I nodded to Tenebis, and he barged through the door to the workroom. As I followed him in, I was met by a gruesome sight: human body parts lay scattered around the room; six goblins stood about, holding severed arms and legs, swinging them about, dipping them in vats of molten glass, and laughing; in the center of the room was Longiku, sitting on a chair, his body completely encased in thick, clear glass.

I flew into a rage. I was only dimly aware of my allies filing in behind me as I charged forward and started throwing fire left and right. The goblins mobbed me and began to hack at me with their short, stubby swords. My caution thrown to the wind, I had allowed myself to become surrounded, and the three goblins I was fighting began to push me slowly backward toward the furnace. I knew the furnace burned hot enough to cremate a body, and as I was pushed towards it, I thought of the irony of the fire sorcerer being burned to death. It would be fitting, I supposed. By now my back was up against the stone of the fireplace, and I could feel the heat through my clothes. Two goblins grabbed my legs and started to hoist me in.

Just then, an arrow sprouted between the eyes of the goblin on my right. It had passed right through his skull from behind. With the flash of a sword, the head of the goblin to my left departed from its shoulders. Tenebis was behind it. With only one goblin left, I summoned my power once again and threw one last blast of fire at it. It screamed, then crumpled to the ground, its skin blackened by the flames.

I stepped away from the furnace.

Ulrick was engaged in a firefight with a bow-armed goblin across the room from him. The tiger was snacking on the face of another. The final goblin was face to face with Joanos in a swordfight, and was nearly dead when Steranis snuck up behind him and thrust a dagger through his back.

With the goblins dead, I took a few moments to absorb what had happened.

The scattered limbs were those of my coworkers. Their bodies lay in pieces on the floor. I forced myself to look at each of their faces. As I laid eyes upon each one, I whispered their names, quietly, as in a prayer. They were all there; all eight of them. I turned my eyes to Longiku. He was immobile under the curtain of glass, but seemed otherwise unharmed. His eyes were closed, and he wasn’t breathing. Somehow his skin had not been burned by the liquid glass. I turned to Asclepius.

“I don’t suppose there’s any chance he could be alive under there, through some strange magic?”

Asclepius walked up to Longiku and inspected him. Then she turned back to me and shook her head, sadly. I went back to inspecting the room.

A trail of blood led out a door to the hallway. Excepting Longiku, the men had not been killed in this room, but rather dragged here, dead, and still bleeding. Some of their body parts had been dipped in glass, or had molten glass poured on them. In this case, the skin had blistered, and the glass had cooled too quickly, and cracked. It seemed the goblins had been trying to replicate the state that Longiku was in, but hadn’t a clue what they were doing.

I stood there silently for a few more moments, surveying the carnage. Then I kicked myself in the shin.

“Ameiko isn’t here,” I said, “We have to keep looking.”

I followed the blood trail out of the room, and the others followed in silence. It led out through the hallway, through the dining room, and into the sleeping quarters. My former coworkers had been killed in their beds before being dragged out there. They likely hadn’t even woken up.

There was no one else on the main floor of the glassworks, though the place had been thoroughly ransacked. We lined up by the stairs and prepared to storm the basement.

◊◊◊

Tenebis was the first through the door, followed by Steranis’ tiger. I was at the back, my magic drained by my near death in the first fight. I loaded my crossbow. The staircase was narrow, and we had to go down in single file. Tenebis turned the corner and ran the rest of the way down. Ares leapt after him. The rest of us pushed forward. When I got to the corner and looked around, I saw Tsuto fighting Tenebis in the middle of the hallway. A goblin bard stood singing behind him, and two other goblins were in front of him, already dead. Tenebis and Ares worked fast.

“Tsuto, you traitorous bastard!” I yelled.

“Take the half-elf _alive_,” I coldly instructed my allies. I fired my crossbow, and missed.

The bard was next to fall, riddled with arrows and bullets. Tsuto and Tenebis continued their swordfight. The hallway was narrow, and Joanos and Ares were having trouble getting any hits in past Tenebis. Domoki and Ulrick continued to shoot. Domoki had switched to blunt arrows to accommodate my request to take him alive. Tsuto seemed to be flagging, slowly. Finally, Tenebis judged the time was right. He feinted left, then quickly swung around to the right and hit Tsuto over the head with the flat of his blade. Tsuto crumpled to the ground.

Asclepius rushed over to stabilise him, and Joanos used some very complicated knots to tie him up.

“Gag him as well.” I requested.

“Why, is he a caster?” asked Asclepius.

“No, I just don’t want to hear his smarmy voice when he wakes up.”

Joanos chuckled, and complied.

I moved on down the hall. To my left was hallway that definitely wasn’t there last week. I pointed out this curiosity to the others, and made a note to investigate it later. I was looking for Ameiko, and I thought I might as well search the familiar part of the building first. The only rooms down here, excepting any that might be off the mysterious new hallway, were two storage rooms. I opened the door to the first one, and to my relief, Ameiko was there. She was tied to a chair and gagged, but she appeared unharmed. I rushed over to her and removed the gag.

“Did he hurt you?” I asked.

“No. I’m fine. Thank you for saving me.”

“It was mostly Tenebis,” I said.

“Did you kill my brother?” she asked.

“No. He’s alive; unconscious, but stable. The others will take him to the garrison.”

Untying her took some time, but when all the ropes were loosed, I helped her to her feet, and she seemed steady enough.

“Let’s get you home,” I said. I took her by the arm and led her back up the stairs. Domoki followed behind us. As we reached the top of the stairs, I couldn’t help but glance over my shoulder at the door to the work room. There were nine people in there that I would never see again.

“We’ll clean up in there,” said Domoki, “there’s no need for you to see that again. Take the lady home.”

“See what?” said Ameiko, looking over. There was still blood in the hallway. “Oh, Gods! How bad is it?”

“You don’t want to see,” I said, placing myself between her and the door to the workroom. “I’ll explain when we get home.”

Ameiko pushed past me and opened the door. She took two steps in and froze. Her eyes scanned over the carnage, silently, and came to rest on her father. She screamed. I rushed in after her and caught her as she sank to her knees, shaking. I heard footsteps running up the stairs. Asclepius stopped in the doorway. I guess she had heard Ameiko’s scream and worried that someone was hurt. I waved her off. Asclepius and Domoki moved down the hallway to give us some privacy as I held Ameiko’s slender, shaking frame in my arms. Ameiko pried her eyes away from Longiku and looked at me.

“The last thing I said to him was… Gods, I didn’t even say anything! I just hit him over the head with a frying pan!”

I nodded in understanding.

“The last thing I said to him was… hardly complementary, either. I believe it was something along the lines of ‘fuck you too, Longiku’.”

She forced a sad smile.

“I’m sure he deserved it,” she admitted.

“Yeah… he was a miserable old curmudgeon, but he was still your father. It’s ok to be sad. And it’s ok to still be angry too.”

She nodded, and placed a hand on my forearm as if to stand. I helped her back to her feet for the second time today. We walked back to the inn. Those we passed on the way saw from her face that something was gravely wrong, and they did not address us. When we got back to the Rusty Dragon, I took her straight to her room, and she didn’t argue.

“You were up all night, Ameiko. Sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.”

Ameiko closed her door behind her. I went down to the kitchen. We’d have to run the inn without Ameiko today, and Bethana couldn’t do it alone.

◊◊◊

The rest of the party got back to the inn a few hours later and briefed me on what they had found. The mysterious hallway had apparently always been there, but its entrance was hidden by a secret door in the stone wall. I thought back, and realised I had never really looked too carefully at any of the walls in the glassworks. There had been no reason to.

There were two rooms off the secret hallway. Both were storage rooms, and they were filled with counterfeit goods. There appeared to have been a smuggling operation going on right under my nose. In addition to the storage rooms, there was a tunnel leading off the secret hallway, to who-knows-where. The others had temporarily blocked it off, and said we could return tomorrow to investigate it.

They also showed me the goods they had pilfered off of Tsuto and the dead goblins. There was some nice stuff in there, but the thing that interested me the most was Tsuto’s journal. It was evidence, and might even give away his motives. I grabbed it and flipped to the back. A few pages from the end, there were several small hand drawn sketches of Sandpoint covered in arrows and symbols. One was circled. They were battle maps, and the chosen one depicted the goblin attack from last week. Tsuto had been involved in planning it. On the next page was scrawled in Varisian:

_The raid went about as planned. Few Thistletop goblins perished, and we were able to secure Tobyn’s casket with ease while the rubes were distracted by the rest. I can’t wait until the real raid. This town deserves a burning, that’s for sure._

I turned the page again. More battle maps, these ones with more arrows than the last group. Some of the maps were scratched out, as if rejected. None were circled. They hadn’t yet decided on their plan for the next attack, but it clearly would be larger than the last. On the next page was written:

_Ripnugget seems to favor the overwhelming land approach, but I don’t think it’s the best plan. We should get the quasit’s aid. Send her freaks up from below via the smuggling tunnel in my father’s Glassworks, and then invade from the river and from the Glassworks in smaller but more focused strikes. The rest except Bruthazmus agree, and I’m pretty sure the bugbear’s just being contrary to annoy me. My love’s too distracted with the lower chambers to make a decision. Says that once Malfeshnekor’s released and under her command, we won’t need to worry about being subtle. I hope she’s right._

“Who is Malfeshnekor?” I asked, looking at Joanos. He seemed to know a lot of things. This time, he simply shrugged.

“It sounds like a demon name, but I’ve never heard of him either,” said Asclepius.

Then I wondered who “my love” was, and I flipped back through the journal a bit looking for clues. Before the maps, interspersed among pages of text, were several sketches of a woman, mostly nude. In the last one, the woman’s hand had been replaced with a gnarled claw with six inch nails. The sketches were very well done, and she had a strikingly familiar face. I tried to remember where I had seen her before. After a moment, it clicked, and I said out loud:

“It’s Nualia.”

“Who?” asked Tenebis, who was standing behind my shoulder at this point.

“Nualia,” I repeated, “an Aasimar foundling that father Tobyn adopted. She supposedly died in the church fire.”

“How do you know it’s her?”

“She has a distinctive face.”

“Oh. I guess I wasn’t looking at her face,” admitted Tenebis. I chuckled.

I flipped forward again, past the battle maps and the last page of text I had read. The writing continued:

_My love seems bent on going through with it—nothing I can say convinces her of her beauty. She remains obsessed with removing what she calls her ‘celestial taint’ and replacing it with her Mother’s grace. Burning her father’s remains at the Thistletop shrine seems to have started the transformation, but I can’t say her new hand is pleasing to me. Hopefully when she offers Sandpoint to Lamashtu’s fires, her new body won’t be as hideous. Maybe I’ll luck out. Succubae are demons too, aren’t they?_

On the opposite page was another sketch. It was still Nualia, and she was still nude, but this time she was depicted far differently: both hands had been replaced with claws; a pair of bat-like wings sprouted from her shoulders; horns grew out of her temples; and her mouth opened in a cruel smile to show a set of sharp fangs.

Nualia was alive, and she was trying to turn herself into a demon.

◊◊◊

I spent the rest of the afternoon writing letters to the families of my fallen colleagues. I supposed Sheriff Hemlock would normally do that, but he wasn’t here. He’d left a deputy in charge, but I had known the men better, and I felt I should do it. It hurt, but I guess it gave me some closure.

At dinner time, Ameiko still hadn’t come out of her room. I figured she should be awake by now. Domoki and Asclepius had taken over in the kitchen, and had managed to make something that resembled food. It wasn’t as good as Ameiko’s cooking, but it would do. I brought some up to Ameiko in her room. She let me in, and thanked me for the food, but ate only a few bites.

“How are you holding up?” I asked.

“I don’t know. I’m angry, at my brother. I suppose I should be sad about my father. I am, I guess, but at the same time I’m also – relieved? – that I never have to deal with him again. Is that wrong?”

“Don’t ever let anyone tell you that your feelings are wrong,” I said, repeating my mother’s words that she had spoken to me over forty years ago. She had been talking about a different kind of feelings, but I figured it was still some pretty solid general purpose advice.

She nodded, and was silent for a moment.

“Why do you think he did it?” She asked. “My brother, I mean.”

I pulled out the journal and handed it to her.

“This was his. It’ll explain.”

She opened it, and unlike me, she started to read from the beginning. She read every page slowly, deliberately, before she turned to the next one. It took her half an hour to read through the whole thing, but she didn’t tell me to leave, so I stayed and kept her company. When she got to the end, she spoke again.

“She’s using him.”

“Yes. She is.”

“Will you go talk to him?”

“I think so. Tomorrow. Will you?”

“I don’t know.”

We sat together in silence for some time, staring out her window at the docks. It was a comfortable silence.

◊◊◊

The next morning, Ameiko was back in the kitchen. I tried to tell her she could take another day off, but she said it was better if she kept busy. I didn’t argue.

The others were eager to head back to the glassworks to explore the tunnel under the city. We ate quickly, and headed off.

The glassworks were empty, and disturbingly silent. It was clean now, and the bodies had been removed, but the stillness hanging about the place carried with it an uncomfortable reminder of yesterday’s events. We headed downstairs. Now that I knew I was looking for a secret door, it was easy to find, and I pushed open the wall to reveal the hidden hallway. We walked down it to the tunnel entrance, and Tenebis pulled aside the furniture he had used to barricade it.

We stepped into a wide, earthen tunnel that curved around to the North. Tenebis took the lead, and we walked silently along it for several hundred yards. A cavern opened up on the right, and we approached it with caution, trying our best not to be heard. Then, with a loud shout, Tenebis rushed into the cave. I laughed at his brazenness and stepped out to see what he was fighting. It was a tall, pale creature with unusually long arms and legs. It had glowing red eyes, and a jaw that split at the bottom and hung gruesomely open.

“It’s a sinspawn,” said Joanos. “Don’t let it bite you.”

But Tenebis was right up in its face already and it bit him.

Tenebis flew into a rage. He was hitting harder, and faster, but he was missing more than he should. We killed it before it could bite anyone else. It took a few minutes for Tenebis to calm down. Then we moved on.

A little ways down the tunnel, we turned off into a finished stone room. In the center of it, a red marble statue of an angry woman dominated the room. She was strikingly beautiful, and I found it strange that I noticed that. She held a great polearm of steel and ivory in her right hand, and a book in her left. On the cover of the book was inscribed a seven-pointed star. The book was part of the statue, but the polearm looked like it could be removed with a little work. Joanos carefully worked it free of her stony grasp.

To the East, a stone staircase rose in short runs toward a carved wooden door. A hallway stretched out to the South, then turned East around a corner. To the North was a simple wooden door. Joanos walked over to the door and listened behind it. He nodded to Tenebis, who ran up and smashed through the door. Subtlety was not his strong suit.

We followed Tenebis out onto a large wooden platform. It creaked under our weight, but held. The platform overlooked a large stone room. Wooden steps descended from either side of the platform to the stone floor. The walls of the room were lined with cells. In some of the cells lay the skeletons of long dead prisoners. Joanos walked over to the steps, intending to investigate the skeletons, I supposed. But suddenly, two sinspawn jumped out from beneath the platform and tried to drag him under. We scrambled after them and killed them. By the time we’d disposed of the sinspawn, Joanos had been bitten, and was suffering from the bite’s wrathful effects. He ran about the room, shaking the bars of the cells and swearing in Elvish. The ferret scurried out of his pack, jumped to the ground, and took shelter in a prison cell, beyond Joanos’ reach. I tried to calm Joanos down, but he called me a dirty half-breed and threw a skull at me. It took him a few minutes to calm down, but the effect did wear off eventually. The ferret crawled back to him tentatively, and took its place on his shoulder.

The next room to the East was full of ancient looking torture devices. A smaller room to its South contained a broken table and several chairs. Books and papers lay strewn about the floor. Joanos started sorting through them with glee. Three stone doors carved with seven pointed stars lined the far wall. Behind each door we found a skeleton, each monstrously deformed in different ways. The first had three arms. The second had a skull far too large for its body. The third had a ribcage stretching all the way down to its pelvis, and stunted legs dangled underneath. Someone had been performing some sort of deranged experiments on these poor creatures. Asclepius said a prayer over them and we kept moving.

Beyond the torture chamber was a larger room with a dozen small pits recessed into the floor. Each pit contained a zombie trapped under a grate. We put the zombies out of their misery. We found a goblin hiding behind a pillar and killed it too. I was _not _feeling charitable toward goblins just lately.

Another long hallway stretched out to the South from here. It led to a spiral staircase leading down, which had caved in and was no longer usable. Beyond that, a stone door stood at the end of the hall. It was unlocked, and Tenebis opened it to find a strange spherical room. The walls of the room were made of copper, or some other reddish metal, and lightning crackled through them in not-quite-random patterns. Once in a while, the lightning seemed to form some sort of rune, but then in the blink of an eye, it was gone. Floating in the center of the room were a number of pilferable things: a book, some magic scrolls, an iron wand, and a very old bottle of wine, which Joanos went straight for. He stepped out into the room, and to my surprise, rather than sliding down the spherical wall to the bottom of the room, he got caught in some sort of magic and floated gently to the center of the room. He grabbed the book and the wine and stashed them in his pack. I was certain the wine would have turned by now – this place was hundreds if not thousands of years old – but I didn’t say anything.

At this point, Joanos seemed to notice that he was stuck. The magic in the room pulled everything toward the center, but once it was there, there didn’t seem to be an easy way out.

“Throw me a rope!” he called out.

I was standing at the door, and decided to have a little fun with this.

“What am I?” I asked.

“A dirty half-breed!”

“Ok. Guess you don’t get a rope.”

Joanos looked around for a bit, assessing his predicament once more. The ferret chittered quietly on his shoulder.

“Fine. I suppose it’s theoretically possible that you are a clean half-breed. I don’t know.”

I laughed, and pulled out my rope.

“Grab the scrolls and the wand for me, and I’ll throw you the rope.”

Seeing no other choice, Joanos did as he was told. I threw him the rope.

The spherical room was a dead end, so we backtracked until we got back to the room with the angry lady statue. We figured the stairs would lead back up to the surface, so we took the South-bound hallway next. It turned a corner and opened up into an alcove containing a small shrine. In the center of the shrine was a giant block of marble. In the top of the marble slab, and small hollow was filled with some foul smelling liquid. Asclepius walked up to it and spoke some words, and the water turned clear.

Past the altar, on the other side of the alcove, were a set of double doors cut from a single slab of stone. Joanos put his ear up to the door and listened, then nodded to Tenebis. Even Tenebis seemed to think better of charging at a solid stone door, so he placed his hands flat against the door’s smooth surface and slowly heaved it open. The doors opened into a great Cathedral. The high ceilings made me realise we must be further underground than I had thought. In the center of the hall was a shallow pool of water. A ring of polished human skulls was arranged on spikes protruding from the center of the pool. At the far end of the room, on a raised pulpit, stood an altar containing a small pool of churning, bubbling water.

Flying above the altar was a tiny humanoid creature with a sour look on her face. She was a scrawny little thing, and only about a foot and half tall, with a wingspan of perhaps two feet. She had long, spindly limbs tipped with gnarled claws, and horns grew from her forehead. Joanos helpfully informed us that that this was a Quasit. When she saw us enter, she pulled out a small dagger and pressed it into her own clawed hand. Then she held her hand above the altar and squeezed out two drops of blood into the restless water.

Immediately, two creatures crawled out the top of the altar: more sinspawn. They were too large to have been hidden inside, so they must have been created through the Quasit’s ritual.

We quickly dealt with the sinspawn, and turned our attention to her. The high ceilings allowed to her stay out of our reach, so only Domoki and Ulrick could do real damage, since I was out of spells. Domoki chipped away at her slowly, but Ulrick jammed his gun on the third shot and was useless. There was a reason I preferred not to depend on these kids with their new gadgets. Domoki’s arrows didn’t seem to be doing as much damage as they should, and on top of that the Quasit seemed to have some sort of fast healing going on. I had gotten out my crossbow, but she was too quick for me, and I kept missing.

“What do we do now, genius?” I asked Joanos.

“She’s a Demon. We need cold iron,” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Ulrick had come up with a different plan, however, and had climbed the steps of the pulpit and was desecrating her altar. He was trying to goad her into coming down and attacking him so he could grab her. She wasn’t falling for it. She simply threw her dagger at him. It nicked him, and flew back into her hand. Tenebis saw what Ulrick’s strategy was, and yelled:

“Hey Urhador! Pee on the altar!”

I briefly considered it. Asclepius was here, though, and I wasn’t about to whip out my dick in front of a lady. Instead, I retrieved my rope and tied it into a lasso. I passed it to Tenebis, figuring he probably had better aim than I. Tenebis threw it at her, and missed. If he could drag her down to our level, he could almost certainly snap her in two.

As it was, only Domoki was damaging her at all, and she was probably doing more damage to us with her fancy returning dagger.

“Go get cold-iron! Seriously! This isn’t working!” yelled Joanos.

“You want me to go for a shopping trip in the middle of a fight?” I asked, incredulous.

“Just go! If we all leave, she’ll just pile up a bunch of sinspawn by the doors and we’ll never be able to get back in!”

I opened the door and slipped through, and Ulrick followed me. His strategy hadn’t been working either. We figured the stairs that led up from the angry statue would get us to the surface quicker than going back all the way along the tunnel to the glassworks. We were wrong. As we ran up the final few steps and opened the door at the top, we were met not by the light of day, but by a hideous winged creature flying straight at us. I slammed the door shut again and held it there. Whatever-it-was was banging against the door, trying to get out.

“I’ll keep it here. You go around,” I said to Ulrick.

He ran off back down the stairs, and turned into the tunnel that led back to the glassworks.

The creature on the other side of the door lacked arms, so it wasn’t having much success with getting the door open. I figured I could keep it at bay indefinitely as long as I didn’t let my guard down. I sat down with my back to the door and contemplated the series of mistakes that had led me to this point. If everyone got out of this alright, I was sure I would look back on this and laugh, but it didn’t seem funny just yet. I decided to be mad at Joanos. He had _known _you needed cold iron to hurt demons. And from Tsuto’s journal, it should have been obvious we’d be fighting some sooner or later. Why hadn’t he _said_ anything?

◊◊◊

It was about five minutes before the rest of the group came to rescue me from my post. Apparently Tenebis had finally managed to catch the Quasit in the lasso, and had dragged her down and pummelled her to death. Thinking it would be a while before Ulrick and I returned, they had proceeded to loot the room, and had found some rather nice things. The ironic thing that they discovered then was that the Quasit’s tiny returning dagger had been made of cold iron, the very thing that we needed, but didn’t have. It made sense in retrospect. She had cut herself with the dagger in order to create the sinspawn.

As they had finished looting the room, Ulrick had finally returned with cold iron arrows and a bag of sandwiches. Domoki had been rather hurt at the fact that Ulrick had stopped to buy sandwiches while the rest of us were in mortal danger. Ulrick argued that the danger the Quasit posed was minor, and besides, the sandwiches had been free. I think he rather missed the point.

Just as they got to the end of their story, Asclepius tilted her head at me.

“Why are you standing with your back to that door, Urhador?”

“Oh, no reason. There’s just an angry flying thing on the other side, and I don’t particularly want to let it out.”

Tenebis told me to step aside, and opened the door. The creature was dead in seconds. Joanos helpfully informed us that it was a Vargouille.

Beyond the small room that held the Vargouille, the stairs continued to climb, but there was a cave-in partway up. We figured it would be easier to get out the way we came in.

“Give me one of those sandwiches, Ulrick,” I demanded. “I’m starving.”

◊◊◊

In the afternoon, I decided it was time to go interrogate Tsuto. He had tried to get Ameiko to join him, which meant he still cared for her, and if he still cared for his sister, there was hope for him yet. With a little luck, perhaps we could get him back on our side.

I brought Domoki with me, to act as a lie detector. When I got into his cell, I noticed he was still gagged. I had only _meant_ for him to be gagged until we could get out of earshot of him, but I admitted to myself that I enjoyed seeing him suffer a little. I removed the gag, and he rubbed his sore jaw.

I sat down opposite him and pulled out the Quasit’s tiny dagger, which I began to sharpen as I spoke. It didn’t need sharpening, but I wanted him to know that we had killed her.

“Well. You've done it,” I began, “You've betrayed your sister. You've killed your father. I wouldn't be surprised if you were the one who pushed your mother off that cliff, either. You won. You got what you always wanted. Revenge on your parents for abandoning you.”

I scanned his face for a reaction, but I got nothing.

“Of course, you're not stopping there. All the rest of us are guilty by association. You want to burn this city to the ground. Or at least, Nualia's managed to convince you that that's what you want. Ridiculous, of course, how easy you're making it for her to use you. You think you're in love, but when she's done with you, she'll just throw you out with the rest of the trash. But that doesn't need to happen. Because we're going to stop her.”

Still nothing from Tsuto, who appeared to have entered a Zen-like calm.

“See, the problem with Nualia's plan,” I continued, “is that she doesn't know your secret. I know your secret. You don't want to burn the whole town, because there is still one person left here whom you care about. That's why you asked her to join you. It's why you kept her alive even after she refused. Ameiko was the only one who ever accepted you. She's the only family you ever had, and you can't quite bring yourself to kill her. So THAT is why I know you're going to tell us where Nualia is. You're going to tell us everything we need to know to stop her.”

Tsuto’s face was still as stone. I decided I’d better leave. I’d said what I came here to say, and there was no point in staying here to humiliate myself. Either he’d see reason, or he wouldn’t. Either way, he’d almost certainly be executed for his crimes.

“I’ll be back tomorrow if you decide you want to talk.”

I left the cell, and Domoki followed out behind me. Once we were out of earshot, I turned to Domoki and asked,

“Anything?”

“He’s had training in meditation. That’s why his expression didn’t change. But underneath the stone face, he was amused. He was laughing at you, I think.”

“Well, that was an epic failure, then. Let’s go back to the inn.”

◊◊◊

When we got back to the inn, I joined Ameiko in the kitchen. She was chopping onions, and she was crying. I wasn’t sure if the crying was because of the onions, or if the onions were to disguise the crying. Either way, I picked up a knife, grabbed some onions from her pile, and joined her.

“I went to talk to your brother today.”

“Oh. Did he have anything to say?”

“No.”

We chopped in silence for a few minutes. Then she broke the silence:

“Do you think Tsuto killed my mother?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I don’t think she killed herself.”

“I don’t think so either,” she said. “She loved life too much.”

We chopped the rest of the onion pile in silence.


	4. Thistletop

Sheriff Hemlock got back to town today. He had ten new guards with him. He asked for a meeting with the seven of us. I told him we should probably invite Mayor Deverin and Father Zantus. I didn’t want to have to explain this twice. The others had already met with Mayor Deverin earlier and given her the short version, but the three of them would need to decide together what to do about this.

When we got to the meeting, Asclepius explained what had happened at the glassworks to the Sheriff. I was relieved not to have to do any of the explaining myself. I had known every one of the men who died, and I felt personally responsible for not getting there in time. The Sheriff was shocked to hear the news, but he didn’t seem to blame us. As far as he was concerned, we had done the best we could.

I handed Tsuto’s journal to Sheriff Hemlock, and he began to read it, slowly and methodically, like Ameiko had done. I turned to Father Zantus.

“Father, do you remember Nualia?”

“Yes, I do. Tobyn’s foundling child. I remember her.”

“What happened to her?”

“She died in the fire. You know this. What does she have to do with any of this?”

I gently kicked Domoki under the table, as a sign that he should be paying particular attention. If Father Zantus was lying, I needed to know.

“That will become clear soon enough,” I answered. “Were her remains actually found, or was she just presumed dead?”

Father Tobyn squirmed in his seat. He seemed to briefly consider not answering my accusatory questions, but when he saw that the rest of the Seven were staring at him intently, I guess he figured he should keep talking.

“Yes. I saw them myself. Two sets of remains were recovered from the ashes of the old church. I presided over their funerals myself. You know what happened to Tobyn’s body last week, but Nualia is still there. Her grave has not been disturbed.”

“Were her remains in good enough shape that you could say for certain that it was her? I know what fire can to do bodies. I wouldn’t blame you if you were mistaken, but we need to know.”

Father Zantus had had enough.

“Why the line of questioning? I won’t answer any more questions until I know what this is about!”

“Nualia is alive, Father. She’s working with the goblins,” I said, nodding at the journal that Sheriff Hemlock was reading.

Father Zantus leaned over in his chair to peer over Hemlock’s shoulder. He seemed taken aback for a moment, probably by a nude sketch, but then he peered in closer to look at her face. A flicker of recognition registered.

I waited in silence while Sheriff Hemlock and Father Zantus finished reading the journal. After some minutes, Sheriff Hemlock put the book down.

“Now, Father,” I said, resuming my line of questioning. “Will we have to exhume Nualia’s grave to find out who is buried there?”

“That won’t be necessary,” he replied in a whisper. “You’re right about what fire can do to bodies. The skeleton that was pulled out of the rubble was humanoid, and about her size, but that’s all I could tell. It could have been anyone. Exhuming the body won’t tell you anything. It’s been in the ground for five years, and it’ll be in even worse shape now.”

I nodded, and let the matter go.

“The question remains,” interjected Mayor Deverin, now that Hemlock and Zantus were caught up, “what are we going to do about it.”

“We plan to raid Thistletop,” I said, speaking for the Seven. “It’s the only lead we have. I trust that with the additional guards Hemlock has brought us, the town will be safe.”

◊◊◊

Before dawn the next morning, we were out on the gulf in a fishing boat, escorted by two fishermen. We had decided to approach Thistletop by water. They would be expecting us to come by land, and we knew they had ambushes set up along the trail. This way, we had at least a chance of catching them by surprise. Tenebis and Domoki took up oars alongside the fishermen, and within a few hours we approached the small island. Thistletop rose out of the water in a sheer cliff face sixty feet high. It was a highly defensible position, but the other option would be to take the bridge from the mainland, which they would undoubtedly cut before we could get across.

We approached the island in darkness and waited at the bottom of the cliff face. We would attack at dawn. As the first light began to creep across the sky, I pulled out the scrolls we’d had penned for us in town and cast spider climb on Tenebis and Ares. Tenebis leapt out of the boat and began to scamper up the sheer rock face, trailing a rope. Ares climbed up beside him. It looked rather comical to see a tiger moving up a vertical rock face like he did, but it worked. Domoki also decided to climb the cliff unaided, but his approach was slower, more methodical.

When Tenebis reached the top of the cliff, we heard the sounds of battle. Tenebis disappeared for a moment, then I heard his voice in my ear. Ares was holding off the goblins. He had tied off the rope and we could start climbing up. Domoki reached the top at this point as well, and dropped a second rope for us to climb. We hastily climbed up the rope. About halfway up, I noticed Asclepius starting to flinch in pain. She was taking Tenebis’ damage in order to keep him up until we arrived. When we reached the top of the cliff, Ares was down, and Tenebis had stopped glowing. Domoki was wounded, though it was hard to tell how badly, since he was made of stone and did not bleed easily. Asclepius, on the other hand, was bleeding from her nose and ears, though she hadn’t taken any damage directly. There were four goblins left up, and two on the ground. The rest of us fought off the remaining goblins and their dogs while Asclepius channelled her healing power. The sounds of battle died down as the last of the goblins hit the ground. So much for a surprise attack.

The goblins’ fortress covered most of the island. We walked around the perimeter to clear it. As we walked along the shore side, goblins on the mainland started to pop out of bushes and shoot at us. I got down in some bushes and loaded my crossbow. As Domoki and Ulrick picked them off, a few of the goblins were brave enough to start running across the rickety bridge. Tenebis met them on our side and kept them busy while Joanos snuck up and began to cut the bridge. A goblin arrow buried itself in my shoulder, and everything went black.

◊◊◊

When I awoke, Asclepius was hovering over me. The arrows had stopped flying. I tried moving my arms and legs, and to my surprise, they all worked perfectly fine. The arrow had been removed, and while there was a sharp twang when I moved my left arm, it seemed otherwise alright.

I stood up. Joanos had finished cutting the bridge, and it hung limply from the opposite shore. A single rope connected the bottom end of the bridge to the shore on our side, so we could pull the bridge back up if we needed it. We continued our walk around the island, and no more goblins showed themselves.

There were two watchtowers on the south side, facing the shore, but they appeared empty from the ground. The goblins on watch duty must have either fallen asleep at their posts, or come down to help fight us as we scaled the cliff. There had been gunshots in the fight at the top of the cliff, so those inside knew we were coming. We decided to use the watchtower as our way in. We certainly weren’t going to waltz in the front door.

Six of us stood back as Tenebis sent a grappling hook over the battlements. We climbed to the top, and found two sleeping goblins. I was surprised that the gunshots hadn’t woken them. None of us wanted to kill a sleeping creature, so we bound and gagged them, so they couldn’t raise the alarm, and moved on. The door to the inside of the fortress was ajar. We headed down the stairs carefully.

Through a few sets of doors, we found ourselves in an open courtyard full of goblin dogs. I hated to kill them, as the dogs themselves hadn’t really done anything wrong, but they attacked us on sight, and there was little else we could do.

In the corner of the courtyard, behind a nailed shut door, was a terrified horse. It looked to have been a magnificent creature in its prime, but it had been half-starved, and was showing it. Steranis calmed it down, and we led it out into the courtyard to graze while we cleared the rest of the building.

There were three doors leading out of the courtyard. We picked one, and Joanos listened behind the door.

“Bugbear!” yelled Ulrick, jokingly. Joanos opened the door, and giant, hairy beast charged out at us. It was as if Ulrick had willed the Bugbear into existence. We dealt with the bugbear, and shot a few suspicious glances over at Ulrick. The room was full of caged rabbits, which we supposed were food for the dogs and the bugbear. The bugbear had been halfway through eating one when we interrupted.

The rest of the ground floor was empty until we came to a set of double doors that were locked from the inside. We had finally been heard, and the rest of the goblins must be inside. Tenebis smashed in the door, as he seemed to enjoy doing, and I caught sight of our foes. There were about 15 goblins in here altogether. Fewer than I had feared, but more than I cared for. Most were gathered in a cluster in the middle of the room. A few clung to giant spiked metal balls hanging from the ceiling. At the back of the room atop a throne piled high with dog and horse hides, sat their chief. At his side, a giant gecko stood alert, but perfectly still.

Both groups stood there for a moment, sizing each other up, and then we rushed forward. In the ensuing fight, I was once again surrounded by goblins, but my power had grown since the attack on the glassworks. My Draconic heritage was showing. As fire poured forth from my open hands, goblins caught fire and sank to the ground.

I ran out of spells before the fight was over, and I knew that in close quarters, my crossbow was useless. Whispering a quiet word of thanks to my Dragon ancestor, I flicked my wrists, and my retractable claws came out. I clawed frantically at the goblin before me as he raised his sword and swung. His first swing glanced off my mage armour, but the second slipped through.

I spent the rest of the combat flitting in and out of consciousness as Asclepius’ magical healing and the goblins’ attacks fought against each other for my life. But soon the goblins were all gone, and I stood up to survey the carnage. Dead goblins scattered the floor, oozing and bleeding and burnt to crisp. The tiger had chosen one to serve as a snack. Joanos and I walked over to Chief Ripnugget’s body and relieved him of his valuables and keys. We looted the rest of the level.

We found stairs to the basement, but none of us were ready to deal with that just yet. Joanos spiked the door, so that nobody could come out without making a great deal of noise. We climbed the stairs to the east watchtower. There were no goblins in the watchtower, and it seemed as a good a place as any to spend the rest of the day and night. Tomorrow we would tackle the basement.

◊◊◊

The night passed relatively quietly. Tenebis and Asclepius were on evening watch, and when they woke me and Domoki for night watch, they told us they had heard some thumping at the spiked door, but that it had subsided, and they hadn’t felt the need to disturb us. It didn’t happen again during our watch, so we figured whoever was stuck in the basement was resigned to their fate, at least until morning. No-one tried to cross over from the mainland, either, which was a great relief. We woke Ulrick and Joanos for morning watch, and went back to sleep. Steranis, being an old man, had been excluded from the watch schedule under the assumption that he needed his rest, and that no watch really needed three.

I woke up again late in the morning. I looked around to see if everyone was there. They were, and they all looked ok, except for Tenebis, who still wasn’t glowing, and hadn’t been since after he scaled the cliff yesterday. A few minutes later, I noticed a strange, translucent, glowing creature descending from the heavens. It seemed to be making straight for Tenebis, but while I was sure he noticed it, he paid it no mind. It settled on him, and seemed to dissolve into him, and he resumed his telltale glow.

“What the hell is that thing, Tenebis?” asked Ulrick, always the diplomatic one.

“It’s my Eidolon,” he said. “It protects me.”

“So that’s why you glow?” I asked.

“Indeed,” said Tenebis. I waited for him to elaborate, but he said no more, and I dropped it. I guess it was a personal thing.

After we had eaten, we headed back down into the goblin fortress to continue our raid. Joanos unspiked the basement door, and we headed down, Tenebis leading the way. Behind the first few doors we opened, all we found were a few bickering goblins, and when we’d knocked them out, I began to relieve them of the healing potions hanging from their belts. Tenebis, Joanos, Asclepius, and Domoki headed down a narrow hallway and around a corner, and I heard the sounds of combat once more. Four people were about as many as could fight in a hallway that size, so I didn’t follow them.

It was at this point that Ulrick seemed to lose every one of his wits, because he then proceeded to walk off alone in a completely different direction, into who knows what danger.

“Ulrick!” I yelled, “STOP!”

Ulrick kept walking.

“Steranis!” I barked, switching tactics, “take care of these goblins and send Ares with me! I’m going after him!”

Steranis seemed to agree, or at least be in no mood to argue. He growled something at his Tiger, who followed me as I ran after Ulrick. We passed through a short hallway which opened up into a series of natural caverns. The first cave was filled with various supplies, but empty of creatures. I saw what seemed to be natural light filtering in through a passage that led to another cavern. Ulrick kept walking, despite my protestations. As I followed him through the passage into the second cave, he stopped abruptly, and I nearly ran into him. Then I saw what it was that made him stop. Hanging from the ceiling of the cavern we had been about to enter was a giant, squid-like, tentacle-y _thing_. It had no eyes that I could see, but it could clearly sense our presence, because it was very slowly advancing across the ceiling towards us. Ulrick turned to me.

“We run?” he suggested, frantically.

“I got no problem with running!” I agreed, and we turned tail and ran back through the passageway, through the first cave, and through the short hallway to the basement landing, shutting both doors behind us.

“I thought we learned our lesson about opening strange doors alone back in the tunnels under Sandpoint!” I said, chiding Ulrick for his nerve.

He had nothing to say to that. We stood by the door for some time staring at each other, and I started to wonder if the _thing_ was actually following us. It had been moving very slowly, but it was always possible that it had decided not to bother with us after all.

Tenebis came out from the hallway he’d headed down before, followed by Joanos, Asclepius, Domoki, and a handsome human stranger with his hands bound.

“Who’s this?” I asked.

“This is Orik. He’s a mercenary. He yielded,” answered Tenebis, choosing not to allow his prisoner to speak for himself.

Just then, I heard the sound of wood cracking from behind the door.

“Right,” I said. “We’ll talk with Orik later. Ulrick just introduced himself to a delightful tentacle monster, and it’s coming to say hello.”

A few seconds later, the door we were watching cracked open, and two gruesome red tentacles slithered through the gap. Tenebis shrugged his shoulders and started hacking at the tentacles. Domoki and Ulrick shot it repeatedly, and I assaulted it with fire. If it wanted to come through the door piece by piece, I wasn’t going to argue. Joanos made himself useful by telling us that the monster was called a Tentamort, and that its sting could liquefy our organs. Fortunately, the Tentamort’s incredible stupidity made it so we didn’t have to experience the organ liquefaction firsthand. By the time we were finished with it, half of its tentacles had been hacked off, and the others hung limply from its formless body. Asclepius seemed quite sure that it was dead.

I turned my attention back to the mercenary. It was time to make him talk.

“Hello Orik,” I said, in a friendly and just _slightly_ charming voice. “I’m Urhador. Pleasure to meet you.”

Orik bowed his head to me in a respectful manner, careful not to offend any of his captors, but remained silent.

“How _did_ a fellow like you end up in the employ of such _thoroughly_ disgusting creatures?” I asked.

“Oh, no sir. The goblins didn’t hire me, sir. I work for Nualia.”

“Ah, that explains it then. She’s roped you in with her _unspeakable allure_?”

“Don’t see her much, actually. She rarely leaves the second basement, and only Tsuto’s allowed down there to see her. Besides, I’m more partial to the wizard, myself. But Nualia pays in platinum, and work’s been hard to find since I got banished from Riddleport. Very sorry about the raid on Sandpoint, sir,” he babbled on, “I was rather disgusted by it myself, and considered leaving when I found out about it. Unfortunately, I – didn’t see any way of leaving without drawing Nualia’s ire. If you’d consider letting me go, I promise I’ll leave the area and never return.” Orick spoke faster and faster as he finished his explanation, and I could tell he was terrified, and saying whatever he thought was necessary to get us to spare his life.

“You say there’s a wizard here,” I said, fixating on the one useful piece of information he’d divulged. “Where?”

“She’s – in the library, I think,” he admitted, reluctantly. “Please don’t kill her.”

“We never kill anyone we don’t have to kill,” I assured him. “Look at yourself. You’re still alive.”

“Yes, sir, I understand. And thank you for that, sir.”

“Anything else down here that we should be aware of?” I asked, thankful for how cooperative this particular prisoner was being.

“There’s some sort of monster dogs in the temple,” he warned, nodding his head at another hallway leading off to the North. “Besides Lyrie and that Tentamort you just killed, that’s all for this level, and as I’ve said, I’ve never been to the second basement.”

I glanced over at Domoki for confirmation, and he nodded his head. Orik was telling the truth.

“Very well,” I said. “You may keep your sword and your armour. We’ll be keeping the platinum you collected for this repugnant job of yours. Other than that, you’re free to go. There are still goblins on the mainland. If we let you across the bridge, will you be able to talk your way past them?”

“They won’t attack me without an order from Ripnugget,” he assured me. “You did kill Ripnugget, I assume?”

“Yes, of course,” I replied.

Steranis and I took Orik up and out of the fortress.

“We should give him the horse,” I said to Steranis, as we walked him out. “We’re likely to leave this island the way we came, and we can’t take a horse on a fishing boat.”

Steranis agreed that that would probably be best for the horse. He went to get him, and when he came back, he led the horse over to Orik and introduced them to each other. The horse’s name was Shadowmist, which Steranis had somehow gleaned through talking to the horse. I didn’t understand how that worked, but there were a lot of things I didn’t understand, and I was at peace with that. Orik thanked us profusely, and we pulled up the bridge to let Orik and his new steed across.

“Godspeed, Orik. If we meet again in battle, rest assured we will not be so merciful a second time. Stay on the right side of things,” I warned.

Orik bowed deeply and assured me that he would, then turned and led Shadowmist across the rickety bridge. We let the bridge back down after he had passed.

◊◊◊

When Steranis and I got back down to the basement, the others were exploring the caves. The Tentamort’s cave opened out onto the Gulf through a thick curtain of hanging vines. Going deeper into the island was a third cave. The corpses of various sea birds were piled high inside. They seemed to be literally skin and bone, with all the insides having been sucked out. Mixed in amongst the bird corpses were a few dead goblins, and the occasional human adventurer who had been unlucky enough to happen upon the Tentamort. Like the birds, their bodies had been sucked dry, and their skin hung loosely over their skeletons. Asclepius said some words over the bodies, and we took their things. They wouldn’t be needing them anymore. We moved on in silence.

Down the end of the next hallway was a pair of large stone double doors. Carvings were set into the doors, depicting horrifying monsters clawing their way out of pregnant women. Asclepius whispered something vile under her breath and informed us that this was a temple to Lamashtu, the mother of demons.

“Ready for monster dogs?” asked Tenebis cheerfully as he began to push open the doors.

Orik had not been joking. The dogs were larger than I was, and they flew, though they had no wings. As the hounds rushed toward us from above, they let out a terrifying, shrieking wail which pained my ears and shook me to the bone. I pushed the growing sense of panic in back into a corner of my brain, planted my feet, and began to cast. Others were not so lucky. Domoki, overwhelmed by the unnatural sense of panic that they provoked, turned tail and fled. Tenebis was also affected, but before he could run, Asclepius stepped in front of him and cast some spell on him which seemed to calm him down. The dogs landed, and Ares leapt into the fray. For a while we seemed caught in a deadlock. The dogs blocked the door, so we couldn’t get into the room, and we were bottlenecked at the door trying to fight them. Tenebis and Joanos kept trying to push forward, but only Ares had made it past the dogs, and was attacking them from behind. Then, as if on cue, one of the dogs stepped off to the side, creating a convenient gap in their line.

“Don’t fall for it…” I whispered, under my breath. Tenebis and Joanos didn’t fall for it, preferring not to allow themselves to be surrounded. Ulrick was not so wise. He stepped up, past Joanos, and into the flanked position. Just as he got there, the dog that had stepped aside lunged in for his ankle, tripping him. Ulrick fell flat on his face, and two of the hounds rushed in, eager to feast on his flesh.

Asclepius rushed in to heal him and help him up, but as soon as she entered their reach, they were upon her too, tearing chunks of meat from her bones.

“Retreat!” yelled Joanos, as he grabbed Asclepius’ now limp body, pulled her out, and slammed the door behind him. Tenebis reached down for Ulrick and launched him out of the room. He hesitated for only a second, then closed the other door before the hounds could escape. I turned to look at Steranis. He stood still, and a single tear rolled down his wrinkled cheek. Ares was still in there, and he wasn’t getting out. I pulled a scroll from my belt and walked over to Steranis. I cast the spell from the scroll, and when I touched him on the shoulder, his body lost its solid form and transformed into an insubstantial mist. The wispy Steranis flew over to the doors and seeped through the crack between them. We waited silently as Steranis said a last, tearful goodbye to his wild friend. After a few minutes, Steranis seeped back out into the hallway and re-assumed his solid form.

Asclepius was dead. Ulrick, miraculously, was not. Asclepius had somehow gotten to him just in time, and her healing had kept him barely alive long enough for Tenebis to get him out. Steranis was able to wake him.

Domoki came round a corner and approached us, head hung low in shame.

“I’m sorry,” he said, quietly. “I don’t know what came over me. I just – ”

He stopped midsentence as he saw us gathered around Asclepius’ unmoving body. He walked the rest of the way over in silence. He looked down at Asclepius’ face, which looked strangely peaceful in death. Then he looked up at me.

“There must be something we can do!” he pleaded, “You know about magic! There must be something, right?”

“I don’t know anything about magic, Domoki. It’s a gift. It comes to me, but I don’t understand how it works. Ask Joanos. He seems to know everything.”

Domoki turned his gaze to Joanos.

“There are ways,” he said, cautiously. “We’d need a priest, and an offering to the Gods.”

“What sort of offering?” I asked.

“Money,” he reassured us, “diamond dust, specifically. We can trade for it easily enough in Magnimar.”

“Do we have enough?” asked Domoki.

“If we loot the rest of the rooms that we’ve already cleared…” said Joanos, “…maybe.”

The bulk of the loot was in the rooms down the narrow hall where the others had found Orik. There were five rooms down that hallway, and we surmised that they belonged to Orik, Tsuto, Nualia, Lyrie, and the Bugbear that we had found upstairs. Nualia had some very nice things, as did Tsuto (and many of his things were found in her room, to no one’s surprise). Lyrie and Orik’s belongings were very sparse in comparison. I supposed there were benefits to sleeping with the boss.

We gathered up what we could carry and got out of there quickly. No doubt Lyrie, Nualia, and whoever else was here would have heard the Yeth hounds’ howls, and would be coming after us if we didn’t get out real soon. We spiked the doors on the way out to slow them down.

Steranis climbed the East watchtower and talked to a crow for a while. He tied a slip of paper to the crow’s leg, and it flew off toward Sandpoint. Then we sat on the West shore and waited for the fishing boat to come back and get us.

◊◊◊

When we got back to Sandpoint, Steranis left us. He needed to go into the woods to mourn Ares and commune with nature. The rest of us went to the church and we spoke to Father Zantus about Asclepius. He couldn’t do anything for her himself, but assured us that the churches in Magnimar could, if we could afford it. He cast a spell on Asclepius to preserve her body until we got there.

I went to buy a cart to transport her in. Domoki argued with me about the necessity of that. He said he could carry her all the way there.

“You can’t just ride all the way to Magnimar with a dead body slung over your shoulder, Domoki,” I explained.

“Why not?” He asked, seeming genuinely confused.

“Because people will think you’re murderer. It makes people uneasy.”

“I am murderer though,” he said, seeming strangely unperturbed, “we murdered twenty-four goblins over the last two days.”

I gave up trying to explain, and just asked him to trust me on this one. Generally, I was very good at figuring people out, but Domoki was one of the few that truly had me stumped. At times he seemed incredibly wise, and at others, he wondered why he couldn’t embark on a three day trip with a dead body in plain view. I bought the cart, we wrapped up the body, and Domoki decided he would ride in the cart with her. We hitched Domoki’s horse to the cart, and I led Asclepius’ horse alongside my own. If it worked, and we got her back, she’d be able to ride back to Sandpoint on her own horse, and if it didn’t work, we’d have better luck selling the horse in Magnimar than here.

Ameiko came out of the inn to see us off. She handed me a letter of introduction to a merchant in Magnimar that she had dealings with. She said he would give us fair prices for the goods we had pilfered at Thistletop. I thanked her, and we rode off toward the big city.


	5. Magnimar

The trip to Magnimar was relatively uneventful. As we passed the Brinestump marsh, we heard the distant bellows of a Froghemoth, which Tenebis wanted to go fight, but I reminded him that we didn’t have a healer, and that probably wouldn’t be a good idea. Domoki, who was riding in the cart, was constantly checking on Asclepius, and I wasn’t sure what for. Was he checking to see that she was still dead? I didn’t ask.

When we got to the city gates, the guards questioned us before letting us in. I told them we were here to trade, which wasn’t a lie, exactly. They seemed suspicious, so I showed them some of our more expensive loot, at which point they seemed satisfied that we had legitimate business here. I felt no need to mention the dead body in the cart. They didn’t check under the rugs, and I breathed a quiet sigh of relief as they let us pass.

We went first to Balthazar, the merchant that Ameiko had told us about, and sold our goods in exchange for diamond dust.

“Why diamond dust?” he asked.

“Oh, you know. Just an easy way to carry around large sums of money. Lighter than platinum,” I said, evading.

He raised one eyebrow to show that he didn’t buy my explanation.

“It’s just that diamond dust is usually used for high level divine magic, and I can’t help but stick my nose in to interesting things like that,” he explained.

I decided that he could probably be trusted, at least a little, since Ameiko had vouched for him.

“Our healer died,” I admitted.

“Well that’s kind of ironic, isn’t it?” he pointed out with a smile. He asked no more questions, and brought us out our payment.

“Where to now?” I asked, to the group in general, “there are churches of Calistria, Desna, Erastil, Iomedae, Norgober, Pharasma, and Sarenrae here.”

Domoki shot me a confused look as I finished rhyming off the list of deities.

“That’s a rather specific thing for you to know,” he pointed out.

“What?” I asked. “I lived here for the first twenty years of my life. I know my way around.”

“Take us to the church of Iomedae,” said Tenebis. “I may some pull with them.” He pulled out a pendant from under his shirt which depicted a longsword in front of a shining sun.

We went to the church of Iomedae, but it was late afternoon, and the church was closed by the time we got there. We agreed to come back tomorrow.

◊◊◊

We found an inn that seemed clean enough and got a few rooms. Asclepius was taken out of the cart and brought up to a room, and we stabled the horses. I spent a few hours after that wandering around town, seeing how things had changed since I was here last. Domoki came with me, and I pointed a few things out to him, but mostly we allowed a comfortable silence to exist between us. After some time, I looked up at the clock tower, and said to Domoki,

“Well, it’s getting to be about dinner time. My parents live here, and if they found out I was in town and didn’t stop by for dinner, I’d never hear the end of it. I’d better get going.”

I headed off towards my parents’ place, but Domoki didn’t take the hint to bugger off. He kept walking alongside me, and I tried to think of some other polite way to get it across to him that his presence was no longer welcome. Domoki seemed perfectly happy to come to dinner with me, if that was where I was going.

My parents would naturally assume that any man I brought home for dinner was my lover. After some consideration, I decided that that didn’t bother me too much, and that Domoki probably wouldn’t even notice. One of the ways in which he was just as naïve as I had initially thought was in matters of love.

My parents lived in a small cottage in the elven quarter. My father was outside weeding the garden when we arrived. He didn’t see me right away, so I walked up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder. He turned.

“Ÿridhrenor!” he exclaimed, as he got up and hugged me. “I didn’t know you were coming!”

“Sorry Dad,” I said. “I didn’t know I was coming either until I was on my way.”

“And who is this?” he asked, with a nod towards Domoki.

“This is Domoki. He’s a friend of mine.”

“Of course,” said Dad with a knowing smile. “Let’s get you two inside and let your mother know you’re here.”

We went inside, and I introduced Domoki to my mother. He handed her the meat pie we’d bought on the way, since we didn’t know if there’d be enough food for us all what with Domoki and I showing up unannounced. As we sat down for dinner, the inevitable barrage of questions began.

“So what brings you to Magnimar, Ÿridhrenor? And how did you get time off work with no notice?”

“Well, umm…” I wondered where to start. I decided to give them the short version. “I don’t work at the glassworks anymore. Last week, there was a series of goblin attacks on Sandpoint. One of them was at the glassworks. I wasn’t there at the time, so… I was the only one that survived. Now I’m on a mission of vengeance. We tracked down the goblins to their home and attacked. Myself and Domoki and five others. Our retaliatory attack was successful, but Asclepius – she’s our healer – died. Now according to our resident know-it-all, Joanos, we’re rich now, and death doesn’t count anymore or something. I don’t know how it works. I know it’s not fair, I know. But we’re bringing her body to the temple tomorrow to see if they can bring her back.”

At that, my mother met my eyes and stared silently into mine. She heard me talking about Asclepius, but she was thinking of someone else.

“Mother, she’s been dead for forty years,” I said, in answer to her unspoken question. “That’s different. She’s in a better place now. Even if we could, she wouldn’t want to come back.”

Mother sighed.

“You’re right, of course. She’s with the Gods now. It wouldn’t be fair to bring her back, even if we could. You just – gave me hope for a minute there.”

My parents stared in silence for some time, looking back and forth between me and Domoki. After a time, my father broke the silence and attempted to change the topic.

“So, Domoki,” he asked, “how did you get yourself into this mess? You don’t look like you’re – from around here.”

“I grew up in a monastery in the Kodar Mountains,” answered Domoki. “When our training is complete, we are sent out into the world. When I went out into the world, the first people I met were Tenebis and Pigeon.”

“That’s his nickname for Asclepius,” I interrupted, by way of explanation.

“Pigeon had a quest for me,” he continued. “She told me I was part of the seven, and we had been called to fight a great evil. She was telling the truth, at least as far as she knew, so I followed her on her journey. We picked up Ulrick along the way. Finally, we arrived in Sandpoint, where we found Joanos and Steranis and finally Urhador. Then the goblins attacked, and we knew it had started.”

“A great evil, you say…” said Mom, looking worried.

“Urhador’s been great,” Domoki continued, trying to ease her obvious concern with assurances of my competency, “He can set goblins on fire like nothin’ else!”

“Yes, we’re… aware of his unusual abilities,” said Mom. Then she turned to me, and, switching into Elvish, said: “Do you really let him call you that?”

“What, Urhador?” I responded in Taldane, not wanting Domoki to think we were talking about him behind his back, “Yeah, of course. It’s my name.”

“No, it is not,” said my mother, enunciating every syllable perfectly.

“Well, perhaps if you had given me a name that people could pronounce, I would use it.”

“I know it’s difficult for humans to pronounce your name, Ÿridhrenor, and I am sorry for the trouble it’s caused you. I understand why you use that nickname day to day. But I figured _he_ would at least make the effort.”

“Domoki is terrible at pronouncing names. He can’t pronounce Asclepius’ name either. That’s why he calls her Pigeon. Where does that come from anyway?” I asked Domoki, desperately trying to change the subject.

“Well, she’s a messenger from the Empyreal Lords,” answered Domoki. “Messenger pigeon? Get it?”

“Oh. I get it.”

Domoki had a weird sense of humour. I don’t think they made jokes at the monastery, so he was probably still trying to figure it out.

After dinner, Domoki excused himself and headed back to the inn. My mother told him he was welcome to stay, but I gave him a warning glance, and this time he caught my hint and left.

“He could have stayed, you know,” said Mom. “Any friend of yours is welcome here, and I won’t raise a conniption over him sharing your bed.”

“It’s not like that, Mom,” I said. I _knew_ this would happen, and for some reason I had let him come for dinner anyway.

“You were never this discrete with Andrei,” she continued.

“That’s because Andrei was my boyfriend. Domoki is not.”

“Whatever you say, Ÿridhrenor.”

◊◊◊

The next morning, the five of us met back at the temple of Iomedae.

“Where were you, Urhador?” asked Ulrick.

“At my parent’s place. They live here,” I said.

“You have parents?”

“Yes…”

“But you’re a half elf. Shouldn’t your human parent be dead by now?”

“Thank you for that incredibly sensitive question, Ulrick. I am second generation half-elf. Both of my parents are half-elves. As such, they are both still alive. Any more questions?”

To my great surprise (and annoyance), Ulrick had more questions.

“I thought half-elves were sterile. Like mules.”

“No, we are not, Ulrick. What made you think that? Just ‘cause I don’t have kids? There’s a different reason for that.”

Fortunately, Ulrick stopped asking questions at this point.

I looked around to check that we were all there before entering the temple. We were all accounted for, and Domoki was carrying Asclepius’ body. Normally, as the smooth-talker of the group, I would do the talking, but this time I nodded to Tenebis before heading in.

“These are your people,” I said. “We’ll follow your lead.”

Tenebis looked down at his hands and once again switched his ring over to the fourth finger of his left hand. Then he took Asclepius’ body from Domoki and did the same on her hands. I noticed that the rings they were wearing matched. Why had I not noticed that before?

“What do those rings mean, anyway?” I asked.

“They’re a spell focus. They allow her to take my damage in combat. She makes me wear it.”

I chuckled.

Tenebis entered the church, and the rest of us followed. He told the harrowing tale of our adventure. How we were on a divine mission, sent by the Empyreal Lords. How we were meant to defeat a great evil. How we couldn’t do it without Asclepius, our selfless and capable healer. He even cried a little as he finished his tale. He never actually _said_ that she was his wife, but he played the part of a grieving widower quite well.

The priest asked if we had the diamond dust, and I handed it over. Then he began his ritual. The body was laid out on a stone table. Candles were lit. Words were chanted. The diamond dust was offered up, and with a sudden gust of wind, was gone.

Asclepius’ eyes fluttered open.

“About time!” she said.

“Pigeon!” exclaimed Domoki as he stepped forward and hugged her tightly, nearly knocking the wind right back out of her.

Asclepius stood up slowly, took the arms of Domoki and Tenebis on either side, and took a few cautious steps.

“Well then,” she said, “Where were we? And where is Steranis?”


	6. The Ruins of Old Thassilon

When we got back to Sandpoint, Steranis was waiting for us. He had with him a large bird, about 3 feet tall, though it did not yet look fully grown.

“I see you’ve found yourself a Roc,” observed Joanos.

Domoki took a step toward the bird and tilted his head.

“Cousin?” he asked, quizzically.

“No, not a rock, a Roc,” said Joanos, in an exasperated tone.

“Oh. Of course,” said Domoki, pretending to understand. He was a terrible faker, and it was clear he was still confused. Unfortunately, I didn’t know anything about Rocs either, so I couldn’t help him.

We all sat down around a table at the Rusty Dragon to talk strategy.

“Charging in there blindly didn’t work so well last time,” I said. “If we’re going back, we need a plan.”

“Why?” said Joanos, taunting me. “You scared?”

“Yes. I am,” I replied, “because I’m not an _idiot_. Funny you should have so much knowledge, Joanos, and so little wisdom.”

Domoki smiled at my quip.

“It’s become clear to me,” I continued, “that we’re not going to catch them by surprise whichever way we come. They can see us coming a mile off on the water, and they’ll likely still have scouts posted along the road. So as far as I’m concerned, we might as well take the approach that’s easiest for us. To me, that means not having to scale a sixty foot cliff.”

There were polite chuckles all around.

“That leaves the question of how we are going to deal with their ambushes.”

“Shouldn’t be as much of a problem now as when we were on foot,” said Tenebis. “With horses, we’re more mobile, and we can ride right on through an ambush before they can do enough damage to _kill_ any of us.”

Tenebis looked pointedly at Asclepius, who smiled and knocked on her new breastplate with a fist, making a dull ringing sound. Tenebis had bought the new armor for her before we left Magnimar, and had made her wear it.

The evening wore on as we discussed strategies and battle plans, and mused as to what could be in the second basement besides Nualia. Domoki gave Ulrick a hard time about getting Asclepius killed, explaining to Ulrick that he was a gunman, and there was no reason for him to be jumping into melee.

As the discussion wore on, Asclepius’ face slowly began to twist itself into a worried expression, though she remained silent.

“Is something wrong, Asclepius?” I asked.

“What exactly happened after I died?” she responded, deflecting my question with a question of her own.

“Well…” I started, wondering where to begin, “Ares never made it out.”

“I gathered as much,” she said to me, “my condolences,” she said, turning briefly to Steranis. Then she looked back at me, as if she expected me to continue.

“… we looted the rooms that we had cleared, Steranis called back the fishermen, and we left.”

“Did you burn the bodies? The goblin bodies, I mean.” she asked.

“No. We were in a hurry. We were worried Nualia or Lyrie might come after us.”

Asclepius was silent once again, but her worried expression only set in deeper.

“What’s wrong?” I asked again.

“I expect Nualia, or Lyrie, or both, are likely into necromancy. We might have to kill all of those goblins again.”

As the implications of her words sunk in, a terrible thought occurred to me about who else we might have to kill again.

◊◊◊

The trip back to Thistletop was surprisingly un-eventful. There were no ambushes, and by the time we found the trail to Thistletop leading off of the main road, I was starting to get worried about how easy this was. We tied up the horses near the road, as they were not combat trained, and proceeded on foot down the path. As we got closer to the shore, we started seeing lone goblin archers hiding in the woods. There were seven of us though, and they knew by now what we were capable of, so generally they fired a few arrows and then ran away.

The path ended abruptly at a wall of dense, thorny brambles. Tenebis pulled out his sword and started hacking at them, but progress was slow, and Domoki had a better idea. He spent a few moments inspecting the area where the path met the briar patch. Then he reached out, grabbed a single, smoothed out branch that had escaped notice from the rest of us, and pushed. A hidden door swung open to reveal a tunnel through the brush. It was only four feet tall, clearly made for goblins, and we had to duck to get it.

In we went, and ten feet in, the tunnel diverged into three branches. Steranis cast a spell, and the plants forming the walls morphed and grew, covering the entrances to two arms of the tunnel.

“Let’s do these one at a time, why don’t we?” he said, with a twinkle in his eye.

Tenebis led the way down the remaining tunnel. As the tunnel opened up into a larger chamber, he was attacked by a large, lithe, spotted cat. It was smaller than Ares, and quicker, and it blocked Tenebis into the tunnel, forcing him to remain stooped down while fighting it. It slipped away from every one of his blows with an uncanny dodge. Steranis sent his bird in, and though it could not fly in these close quarters, it managed to get around Tenebis and the cat and attack from behind. The cat whirled around, ignoring Tenebis, and attacked the Roc. I was directly behind Tenebis, and wanted to help, but if I used my fire, I’d get him too. I started pelting the cat with magic missiles, which honed in on their target without issue. They hit, but they did little damage, and I suspected I might run out of magic before the cat died this way.

Meanwhile, behind me, I hear a rustling of leaves, and a goblin emerged from the wall of brambles, seeming to pass right through it without notice. Unfortunately, he emerged right in front of Domoki with his drawn bow.

“Freeze!” said Asclepius, in an icy, commanding voice that I had never heard from her before.

The goblin froze.

Domoki fired.

Ulrick also shot him, and Joanos got in a hit with his sword before the strangely resilient goblin snapped to his senses and retreated back into the brush. They couldn’t follow him, and he was gone.

Back at the front of the group, the cat had won the fight against the bird, and had delayed eating him in favour of attacking Tenebis once more. I cast my last spell for the day, and as I felt the magic draining out of me, I hoped it would be enough. It wasn’t. The cat was still on its feet, and Tenebis had yet to land a blow.

“Tenebis…” I said, “let me past.”

“He’ll kill you,” said Tenebis. “You’re not even wearing armour.”

“Not if you kill him first. I can distract him.”

Tenebis had no choice but to obey.

I slipped past Tenebis as he swung his sword once more, and as the cat dodged his blow, I got around it as well. With a flick of my wrists, my Dragon claws were out, and I slashed at the cat to get his attention. It was a weak blow, and it didn’t break through his hide, but he noticed and whirled around. I stared him straight in the eyes and slowly took a step back, daring him to come after me. He did. As I retreated a few more steps, and the cat tore at my arms with its teeth, Tenebis finally got out of the tunnel and straightened out. His sword came down once more, and this time the cat did not see it coming. His spinal cord was neatly severed, and he slumped to the ground.

Steranis walked over and knelt down next to the body of his bird and started mumbling something. The rest of us backed away to give him some privacy.

◊◊◊

The rest of the briar maze was empty, save for a few stray goblins. The one who could walk through the walls did not show himself again. When we returned to the chamber where we had left Steranis, he was standing again, and had covered the bird with leaves.

The large open chamber we were in contained a pit, ten feet across, and deep enough to go right down to sea level. It was dark inside, and though we could hear the sloshing of waves, we couldn’t make out anything at the bottom.

“Think there’s anything down there?” asked Tenebis.

Up from the hole came a terrible roar, as if to answer Tenebis’ question.

“We could go down and find out!” said Ulrick.

“I think I’ll pass on that exciting opportunity,” said I. “As long as whatever is down there is content to stay down there, I’m content to let it.”

“We could summon something, and send it down to check things out for us,” said Tenebis. “Domoki, if I summon an earth elemental, can you talk to it?”

“I’m no good at talking,” said Domoki. “But it will understand me, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Tenebis dismissed his Eidolon, which flew back up from whence it came, and in its place, summoned an earth elemental. The small rocky creature seemed to bear almost a family resemblance to Domoki. It noticed him, and seemed to ignore the rest of us. Domoki conversed with the earth elemental in a slow, guttural language, and after a few minutes, it burrowed down into the earth next to the hole. Domoki waited patiently, seeming to expect it to return, so we waited as well.

A few minutes later, the earth elemental popped up its head again and grunted some things at Domoki.

“He says it’s some sort of giant fish with big teeth,” translated Domoki. “Lots of skeletons down there too. Goblins, dogs, humans.”

“Well,” I admitted, “if it’s eating humans, I guess we should go kill it. People keep insisting on calling us heroes, so we might as well live up to the trope. Domoki, ask your friend if there’s any way in there other than down this hole.”

Domoki grumbled back and forth with the earth elemental a bit, then answered me.

“He says there are other entrances at the bottom of the cliff, leading out onto the water.”

“Alright,” I said, “let’s go that way. I’m not climbing down a black hole if I don’t have to.”

We exited the maze of brambles on the shore side, and found ourselves at the top of the cliff looking down over the gulf. The island was directly across from us, and to my surprise, the bridge was still down. I had thought they’d have fixed it by now. We were gone a week, after all. But strangely, nothing moved on the island that we could see.

We let ourselves down the side of the cliff, then went into the cave and slew the sea monster. It turned out to be more like a seal than a fish, but I didn’t blame an earth elemental for not knowing the difference. Joanos tied another rope to the bottom of the bridge before we climbed back up.

We weren’t sure if we’d get ambushed as soon as we crossed over to the island, so we decided to camp for the night and cross over tomorrow. That way I’d have spells again. We camped back near the road where we’d left the horses.

◊◊◊

In the morning, we returned, ready to slaughter undead goblins once again if we had to.

Tenebis summoned an air elemental, which took the loose end of the rope he’d tied to the bridge, flew it around the post on the island, and brought it back. We pulled the bridge up into place, and had a brief argument about who would cross it first. It wasn’t exactly well secured, and none of us fancied the idea of falling off a tippy bridge to the rocks and waves sixty feet below. In the end, it was decided that Ulrick had the best reflexes, if perhaps the worst judgement, so we sent him across. When he got to the other side, he secured the bridge properly, and the rest of us crossed over after him.

Walking around the building, we found no one, only dead goblin bodies that had been decaying all week. In the watchtowers, no one alive. The two goblins that had fallen asleep in the watchtower, and that we’d tied up when we passed by here the first time, had not been rescued by their kin, and had died of thirst. In the main floor of the fortress, more rotting bodies. Joanos unspiked the door to the basement, and Tenebis led us down. Here, finally, were the undead that we had been expecting. Goblin skeletons rushed at us, but only a few of them, as the rest were decomposing above. The skeletons shattered under Tenebis’ sword. We checked the rest of the rooms that we had cleared our last time here. They were still empty. The Tentamort that we had killed had melted down into a foul smelling puddle on the floor, as it had no bones.

“Time to go get those Yeth hounds,” said Joanos. “Asclepius, you have ‘remove fear’ prepared?”

“Of course,” said Asclepius.

“I wonder if there’s another way in,” I mused. “Last time, we couldn’t get around them, because they were blocking the door. But if we can come in from two sides and surround them, we’ll have a better chance.”

We poked around a bit. On the same hallway as the doors to the temple was another door, which opened to what seemed to have been a prison. It was empty. There was a door opposite the cells, which, if there was nothing in between, should lead into the temple. I stayed at this door with Ulrick and Steranis, while the others went back around to the main doors of the temple. Before we split up, I cast message so that we could whisper to each other without alerting the dogs that we were coming. When we’d assumed our positions, Tenebis counted down, and we both opened our doors at once.

The dogs yowled their unearthly yowls, but this time we were prepared, and no one fled.

The dogs rushed the main door, and I walked in behind them, blasting them with fire. Two of them came after me, and the other two stayed on Tenebis. Perfect. I had split them up. Now I just had to stall them. Walking backwards, I pulled out a scroll and read it, and three perfect doubles of me appeared beside me. The dogs did not know which of me to attack. They each picked one, and charged. They got it wrong, and the illusions popped harmlessly when the dogs bit into them. I stepped back again and threw fire at them once more. They yowled, and charged again. This time, one of them got me, and tore a great gash in my leg.

Ulrick had been shooting them from outside the door, but his gun was jammed, and he was useless for now. I glanced over at the other group. Tenebis, Domoki, and Joanos were doing fairly well with their couple of dogs. One was down already, and they had started in on the second one. I couldn’t hold my dogs off for much longer. They knew which of one my doubles was me now. I threw one last blast of fire, then retreated and closed the door.

The dogs, badly burnt and angry, scratched at the door, trying to come after me. I was happy with that. The longer they scratched at the door, the longer Tenebis’ group had to deal with their remaining dog before mine charged them. If they broke through the door, I could shut myself in a prison cell. They wouldn’t be able to get to me, but I could continue roasting them through the iron bars of the cell doors.

In the end, the dogs were not as persistent as I might have hoped. When they realised the door was not yielding, they abandoned it. The scratching noises stopped, and I assumed they had headed back to attack the other group. I hoped my distraction had been enough.

By the time I got back around to the other group the fight was over. My distraction _had_ lasted long enough, and I’d burned them badly enough that a couple of hits from Tenebis were all it took to finish them off. We breathed a collective sigh of relief.

There was only one corner of the basement left that we hadn’t been too, and we presumed the wizard, Lyrie, must be in there. She must know we were coming, and I wondered what horrors she had in store for us. With Tenebis in the lead once more, kicking down doors, we set off into the unknown section.

◊◊◊

We found the wizard, Lyrie, in the library, but she wasn’t alone. As soon as Tenebis smashed through the door, the tiger pounced on him, knocking him prone. Ares had been torn to shreds, and chunks of meat hung off his bones, making a mockery of his former magnificent form. No spark of life stared out from those empty eyes, but I could not meet them nonetheless. Steranis turned away and vomited. I swallowed the lump in my throat, and we proceeded to kill Ares for the second time.

The next to die was the bitch that did this to him.

When the fight was over, Tenebis picked up Ares’ body and took it outside. Steranis followed silently behind him. The rest of us looted the room, more to keep ourselves occupied than because we wanted the loot. We needed to keep our minds off of what we had just been forced to do.

Joanos seemed content to peruse the books while the rest of us appraised the valuables. Lyrie had the expected things on her: potions, scrolls, a wand of magic missile, some rather expensive jewellery. But the thing that puzzled and disgusted me was the contents the pouch that she carried on her belt: a lock of short, dark hair; a collection of fingernail clippings; and a single pearl earring.

“This earring belongs to Tsuto.” I said out loud, though mostly to myself.

“How do you know?” asked Joanos, looking up from his book, “is he your boyfriend?”

I was speechless for a moment, in shock. Not simply because he had just literally accused me of sleeping with the enemy, but also because of the language he had said it in. For you see, although I spoke Taldane, and Varisian, and Elvish, and Ignan, and a bit of broken Tien, I did not _think_ in _any_ of those languages. My thoughts came to me in a completely different language, one that I had never heard spoken aloud. I had always assumed that it was a language I made up as a child, for neither my parents nor any of their friends understood it. And yet, here was Joanos, a man I hadn’t met until two weeks ago, throwing insults at me in my private language.

I couldn’t let him know he had gotten to me. I would solve the mystery of how he spoke my language some other time. For now, I looked him in the eyes and replied, in the same language:

“The word you are looking for is ‘nemesis’. And I know that this earring is his, because I found the other one when I was looting his room, last week.”

“Whatever…” said Joanos, and turned his attention back to his book. “…dirty half-breed faggot,” he muttered, switching back into Taldane, for there was no word for _faggot_ in my head-language.

At that, I lost my cool. Without thinking, I pointed at him, and an arrow of acid sprung from my fingertip. He dodged, and it hit the bookcase behind him and fizzled away. The attack was reflexive, and having failed, I had the presence of mind not to try again. I let it stand as a warning. Asclepius stepped in between us to discourage any further attacks.

I put Joanos’ insult out of my mind, and paused to consider the meaning of Lyrie’s disturbing collection of trophies. Before we had left Magnimar, I had picked up a few books on Arcana, in order to do something about that whole _I know nothing about magic_ problem. And just last night, I had read about mind control, and how certain spells used things like these as focus to control a person from far away. Had Tsuto been under the influence of mind-controlling magic when he attacked the glassworks and kidnapped Ameiko? Or was this simply evidence of some sort of weird love triangle? I hoped it was the later. I had spent the last week building up a good loathing for Tsuto, and I didn’t want it to go to waste.

◊◊◊

Joanos spiked the door to the lower basement. Then we went outside, and built a few giant pyres to burn the goblin bodies. We were not about to make the same mistake twice. On a separate pyre on the other side of the island, we placed the bodies of Ares and the Roc. Steranis lit the pyre, and watched quietly as his animal friends went up in flames.

◊◊◊

The next day, we unspiked the door to the lower basement, and headed down to see what new horrors awaited us there. We reached the bottom of the stairs and found ourselves in an empty room. Leading out the other side of the room was a single, wide hallway.

“I smell traps,” said Joanos, as he silenced his ferret and edged in front of Tenebis, taking the lead. Halfway down the hallway, he stepped on a pressure plate, and two portcullises dropped down on either side of him, trapping him where he was. A moment later, two statues on either side of the hallway began to swing their swords at him, forcing him to cling to the portcullis in front of him and scamper across it to avoid their blows. Then the floor dropped from under him, and he was stuck clinging to the portcullis with nothing to step down onto.

I couldn’t help but think he almost deserved this, but that thought was cut short when the terrifying howl of a Yeth hound filled the air once more, and Nualia stepped around the corner, her beast at her side. I immediately felt the familiar sense of panic take hold of me, and I fought to push it out. This time, I lost the battle, and as the terror swelled to fill every corner of my mind, it pushed out all rational thoughts, and left room for only one: _flee_. I turned to run, but before I could get anywhere, Domoki stepped out in front of me, and I ran smack into him. He wrapped his powerful arms around me and held me there, preventing me from running. I struggled to get loose, but he was much stronger than me, and I was getting nowhere. Then I felt a hand on my shoulder, and a calming presence seemed to spread from its touch, and push out the fear. I turned my head to see Asclepius, and nodded to her in thanks. Then I realized Domoki was still holding on to me.

“Umm… you can let go of me now, Domoki. I won’t run.”

“Good,” said Domoki, loosening his grip on me, “Because I think we need fire.”

I turned to look back where Nualia had been. A thick, obscuring mist blocked my view, but I heard the sounds of combat from within. It seemed likely that blasting the area with fire would burn off the mist, but my allies were in there, and I didn’t want to hurt them. Unfortunately, I suspected they couldn’t see much either, so the damage I’d do by burning them would probably be worth it. I dialed my fire back to the minimum, and started throwing it in wide swathes across the misty area. The fire did indeed burn off the mist, and as I slowly made my way through the hallway, I was able to restore visibility to the area. The pressure plate trap had been disabled, or at least reset, and I did not attempt to cross. Tenebis and Joanos were on the other side of the trap, fighting Nualia, and were mildly burned, but seemed to appreciate being able to see their foe.

With visibility restored, Ulrick and Domoki began shooting down the hallway. Nualia backed up around the corner and out of the line of fire, luring Tenebis and Joanos after her. The Yeth hound had fallen with an arrow lodged in its eye.

Soon, the sounds of battle died down, and Tenebis emerged from around the corner dragging Nualia’s unconscious body after him. Joanos followed him.

“I’ve disabled the trap,” said Joanos. “You can cross now.”

After walking across the disabled pressure plate, the hallway split in a T-intersection. To the left was Nualia’s study. It was full of books, relics, and pages of notes. Joanos walked directly over to the notes and started reading them.

“We should clear the rest of this level and make sure no one is going to jump us while you read,” I said.

Joanos grudgingly set the notes aside, and we set off in the other direction to see what other monsters lurked down here.

At the end of one hallway we found a crypt, with several sarcophagi lining the walls. Some ghosts attacked us there, and we put them to rest. Beyond the crypt and down still more stairs, was the lair of a giant hermit crab, and several hundred regular crabs. They attacked us, but Tenebis fought off the unusually sized one while I blasted the small ones with fire. They were soon dinner. The giant crab had been using the bronze helm of a giant as its shell, and small piles of gold and silver coins littered the room. Tenebis claimed the helm as a trophy, and we gathered up the coins and departed. I took a couple of crabs with me as well. They were cooked just right, after all.

Down another hallway we found a small room containing a marble throne and two statues. Upon the throne sat a ghostly image of a man, speaking in a strange language I did not understand. As we stood there watching him, I noticed he seemed to be repeating himself. It was a recording of some sort, stuck on a loop. Joanos listened to the loop a few times, then began to translate:

_“_ _…is upon us, but I command you remain. Witness my power, how Alaznist’s petty wrath is but a flash compared to my strength. Take my final work to your graves, and let its memory be the last thing you… is upon us, but I”_

“He’s speaking in Thassilonian,” said Joanos.

“The Empire of Thassilon fell 10,000 years ago,” I pointed out. “That’s impossible.”

“No,” said Joanos, “It’s merely improbable. But he _is_ speaking Thassilonian, there’s no other way about it. This place must have been built before Earthfall.”

“But _you_ speak Thassilonian, and you’re not 10,000 years old,” I pointed out, “Maybe he’s just a scholar.”

“I can _read_ Thassilonian,” he corrected me. “I could only guess at how it was pronounced, until now. This man speaks it fluently.”

“Fine,” I said. “Let’s finish clearing it out first, and then you can hang out with your new Thassilonian friend.”

In the next room were three low tables covered in a strange selection of tools. Among them, a seven pointed star made of knife blades. A strange collection of bones lay on the ground between them – too many to be one skeleton, but too few to be two, pointed out Asclepius. It appeared as though one partial skeleton was growing out of the other’s back.

“This looks disturbingly familiar,” said Domoki. “You don’t suppose the ruins under Sandpoint are Thassilonian as well?”

This room gave me the creeps, and I left and waited outside for the others. Asclepius was the last to leave.

“I had to see what I could do about putting those people to rest,” she explained.

There was only one set of doors left unopened, and the stone doors had no handles. The seven pointed star was carved into the doors where the handles should have been. Domoki observed it for a moment, then when back into the room we’d just left, and emerged with the star shaped tool. He walked up to the door and held the key up to the door, showing that it would fit. Tenebis took the key from him and prepared to open the door. Domoki backed up and drew his bow.

When the door opened, a wave of humid heat spilled out of the room, heavy with the smell of burning hair. Inside the room, a wide pit of fire burned hot, and candles lined the walls. Tenebis entered the room slowly, seeing no one, but still half expecting a fight.

Suddenly, a great, wolf-like beast, larger than a horse, appeared in front of him out of thin air and attacked. Joanos yelled out “Fucking Barghest!” then rushed in and got behind it, attacking it from behind while it faced Tenebis in front. Domoki and Ulrick fired at it from down the hall, but as they fired, it blinked in and out of existence, as if only partly anchored to the material plane. Half of the projectiles went right through the space that it had been moments before, and those that did hit the Barghest, it mostly ignored.

I quickly decided that given it lived in a room full of fire, that was probably not the most effective way to kill it, so I stayed back and slowly pelted it with magic missiles.

The Barghest whirled around and attacked Joanos, exposing its back to Tenebis. Within seconds, Joanos was down, and the Barghest paused for a moment, as if deciding whether to devour Joanos first, or to deal with the rest of us. It settled for the later, and whirled around once more to face Tenebis. Tenebis’ characteristic glow was getting fainter, and he was bleeding from the shoulder where the beast had bitten him. I heard a thump from behind me, and turned to see Asclepius hit the ground. She had taken too much damage from her link with Tenebis. Steranis knelt beside her and removed the ring from her finger to disrupt the link.

I had run out of magic by now, and I pulled out the wand I’d lifted from Lyrie to continue draining the Barghest of life bit by bit. It was looming in the doorway now, and Tenebis had closed one door to keep it from leaving the room, while he attacked through the open half of the doorway. Tenebis was flagging, and could not hold it off much longer.

But Joanos was trapped in the room, bleeding out, and if we didn’t kill this beast, he was dinner. Joanos was an asshole, but he was a _useful_ asshole, and I didn’t believe he deserved to die. I stepped forward, giving the Barghest someone else to hit. The temptation of fresh prey got the better of it, and it switched from attacking Tenebis to attacking me. Its jaws sank into my sides, and its claws tore open my leg, but through the pain, I somehow managed to keep pelting it with magic missiles from my wand. Just as one of my missiles zoned in on it, a bullet hit it in the neck, and it sunk to the ground.

Steranis must have managed to wake Asclepius while the rest of us dealt with the Barghest, because presently she pushed past me, climbed over its body, and went straight to Joanos.

“He’s alive!” she called back to us, “I can still save him.”

I breathed out a sigh of relief.

The ferret crawled out of Joanos’ pack and licked his face, trying to wake him.

In time, between Steranis and Asclepius, all of our wounds were healed before anyone died. I walked over to the edge of the fire pit, and called out in Ignan, the language of fire:

“Anyone in there?”

There was no reply. We looted the room, and went back to collect Nualia. Joanos spent all day in Nualia’s study, reading. He was in his element. I left him to it.

◊◊◊

On the way back to Sandpoint, I decided to do a little detective work. Joanos aside, Asclepius seemed like the most educated person in the party, so I thought I might get some answers from her. I pulled up my horse alongside Asclepius’ and started asking her questions.

“Asclepius,” I asked, “how many languages do you speak?”

Asclepius counted on her fingers for a moment, then answered: “Nine.”

“Do you understand this one?” I said, in the language of my thoughts. If Joanos spoke it, maybe other people did too.

“What was that?” she asked.

“Never mind.”

So much for that. Perhaps next time we went to Magnimar, I could go to the University, and find someone who knew. I certainly wasn’t going to admit to Joanos that I didn’t know what language he had spoken to me in.

◊◊◊

We got back to Sandpoint in the late afternoon, and I pulled Nualia’s still unconscious body from Tenebis’ horse and dragged it into the garrison.

“Tsuto!” I called out, and I dragged the body past his cell door, “your girlfriend’s here!”

I dumped Nualia in a cell, and instructed the guards to keep her sedated. If she woke, she’d doubtless use some sort of magic to escape, and take Tsuto with her. I wasn’t about to let that happen.

On way out, I stopped by Tsuto’s door.

“Feel like talking today, Tsuto?”

Tsuto stared back at me with his unnervingly emotionless face, and said nothing.

“Come on,” said Domoki, who seemed to have followed me in. “He isn’t going to talk. Let’s get out of here.”

Domoki placed an arm around my shoulder and steered me out of the garrison.


	7. The Misgivings

With Thistletop cleared out, we had a moment of peace. Our violent retaliation on the Thistletop tribe had sent a message to the other goblins around, and I was certain that it would be a very long time before any of the other tribes even considered attacking Sandpoint. Nualia and Tsuto were behind bars, and would be sent to Magnimar for trial. I intended to accompany them when they went, partly because the judge in Magnimar might require my testimony, but mostly because I refused to afford them an opportunity to escape.

In the meantime, I decided to head over to the glassworks. There were a number of unfinished projects there that needed to be completed before Ameiko could liquidate. Ameiko gave me a key, but when I got there, I was surprised to find that the door was unlocked. I entered cautiously, half expecting another ambush. When I entered the workroom, however, all I found was Ulrick. He had lit one of the kilns, and was crafting bullets.

“Does Ameiko know you’re here?” I asked.

Ulrick looked up from his work.

“No,” he replied. “Why would she?”

“Umm… because the glassworks belongs to her now?”

“No it doesn’t,” he said, almost offhandedly, “her father disowned her. It belongs to the town now. I’m one of the heroes of the town, so I’m using it.”

His chain of logic was bizarre. I decided to start at the beginning.

“So you speak Tien, do you?”

“Yes.”

“Listen, Ulrick. Longiku didn’t have time to rewrite his will before he died. I checked. Which means as far as I’m concerned, that never happened. And if you try to do _anything _to deny Ameiko her inheritance, Gods help me, I will fight you. Ameiko has influence in this town, and so do I now, and I promise you: you will lose. Now get off your ass and go _ask_ Ameiko for permission to use _her_ glassworks.”

As I finished my little rant, I noticed that I’d been raising my voice and advancing toward him. I was now hovering over him, and he was looking up at me with an expression of – respect, almost, mixed with a little fear.

“Alright, alright, I’m going, lover boy!” he said.

“Seriously?” I asked, incredulously, “Is _that _why you think I’m protective of her? Wow.”

I didn’t bother correcting him.

◊◊◊

Later that evening, we were sitting around a table at the Rusty Dragon, and Joanos was sharing with us what he had learned from Nualia’s notes at Thistletop. His ferret sat on his shoulder, munching on a walnut.

The altar in the ruins under Sandpoint that the Quasit had used was called a runewell. It was an artefact from the time of Ancient Thassilon, before Earthfall. It was powered by wrathful souls. Nualia had planned to free the Barghest, whose name was Malfeshnekor, and burn the whole town to the ground, as an offering to Lamashtu. This would fuel the runewell for whatever dark purposes Lamashtu had in mind.

As Joanos went on to describe more of her history and motivations, and I started to tune out, we were interrupted by Sheriff Hemlock striding in the door. He pulled up a chair and sat down before beginning to speak.

“First, let me thank you again for all you’ve done for Sandpoint. It’s fortunate that you’ve proven yourselves so capable, because we’ve a problem that I think you can help us with—a problem that I wish I didn’t have to involve anyone with, but one that needs dealing with now before the situation grows worse.

“Put simply, we have a murderer in our midst—one who, I fear, has only begun his work. Some of you doubtless remember the Late Unpleasantness, how this town nearly tore itself apart in fear as Chopper’s slayings went on unanswered. I’m afraid we might have something similar brewing now.

“Last night, the murderer struck at the sawmill. There are two victims, and they’re… they’re in pretty gruesome shape. The bodies were discovered by one of the mill workers, a man named Ibor Thorn, and by the time my men and I arrived on the scene, a crowd of curious gawkers had already sprung up. I’ve got my men stationed there now, keeping the mill locked down, but the thing that bothers me isn’t the fact that we have two dead bodies inside. It’s the fact that this is actually the second set of murders we’ve had in the last few days.

“I come to you for help in this matter—my men are good, but they are also green. They were barely able to handle themselves against the goblins, and what we’re facing now is an evil far worse than goblins. I need the help. But I’m afraid you’ll need the help too. You see, I’m afraid that this particular murderer knows one of you as well.”

The Sheriff reached into his pocket and pulled out a note, which he handed to Tenebis.

Tenebis inspected the note – turned it over multiple times before opening it. It had his name written on the outside in a neat, boxy script, and it was stained with blood. He opened it and read it silently to himself, then started from the top and read it out again to us:

“_We have spoken of this before, my master. Now it begins. Join the Pack and it will end. Signed, Your Lordship._”

“Who do you suppose it’s from?” asked Asclepius.

“No idea,” answered Tenebis.

“Who do we know that’s a Lord?” prompted Joanos.

“Foxglove,” I answered, as it dawned on me.

“What did he tell you?” I asked Tenebis, “It says that you’ve spoken of this before.”

“I don’t remember,” he answered. “Mostly, he just wanted to know about my life. He certainly didn’t mention anything like this.”

I glanced over at Domoki, who nodded almost imperceptibly. I didn’t want to get in the habit of distrusting my allies, but in this case, I needed to be sure.

“Let’s get down to the mill,” I said. “We need to gather evidence.”

◊◊◊

On the way to the mill, I sidled up to Tenebis to pass him a discrete message.

“Do you remember Shayliss Vinder, your secret admirer?” I asked.

“You’re not suggesting she had something to do with this, are you? Her writing was completely different.”

“Oh, no, nothing like that,” I explained. “I just wanted to let you know that her sister’s boyfriend works at the mill, so we might… run in to her. I thought you should be aware.”

“Ah, ok. Thanks for the warning.”

We got to the mill, and fortunately for Tenebis, Shayliss was nowhere in sight. From the outside, nothing looked off except for the two guardsmen standing outside the door, and the small crowd of onlookers that had already gathered. The guards let us past without a word.

As soon as we stepped inside, my nostrils were assaulted by the overwhelming reek of dried blood. On the far wall, a body was hung up on machinery hooks. I did not recognise it, for the face had been carved away, and the lower jaw removed entirely. In his bare chest was carved the seven pointed star, and blood still dripped from the wound.

“This is Harker, I presume?” I asked of the white faced guard standing by.

He nodded, but did not speak.

Asclepius approached the body, covered her mouth and nose with her scarf, and began to inspect the deceased.

“The rune in his chest and the mutilations to his face were done after he died,” she informed us. “The cause of death, is, I suspect, these other gashes – ” she pointed out a series of shallower wounds that I hadn’t noticed before, since the blood from the mutilation covered them. They appeared to be claw marks, made by a five fingered creature about the size of a human.

“I smell undead,” interrupted Steranis.

I turned to see him crouched on the floor, inspecting a set of bloody footprints.

“The creature that left these footprints was undead,” he asserted.

Asclepius removed the scarf from her nose and inhaled. She gagged.

“You’re right. And it’s what killed him,” she continued. “The stench is in his wounds as well.”

“So some sort of undead thing came into the mill... clawed Harker to death… left us a note and that rune in his chest, which is clearly supposed to mean something… and then fucked up his face. Why?”

“So he can’t talk to us,” answered Joanos.

“I don’t think there was much risk of that,” I said, dryly.

“There’s a spell called ‘speak with dead’,” he explained, “but it doesn’t work if the jaw is missing. Keep up on your reading, magic boy.”

I looked around the room for other clues. Domoki was standing at the railing looking down at the log splitter. At the lull in conversation from the rest of us, he spoke.

“I think you’d better come see this.”

We walked over to the rail. On the floor on the level below lay the corpse of a woman. She had been sliced in two by the log splitter, and her mangled remains were splattered across the floor below.

I turned to the pale faced guard once again.

“Katrine?” I asked.

He nodded again.

Embedded in the floor nearby was an axe. It looked like it had been dropped just before Katrine was pushed into the log splitter. A bloody handprint was painted on the handle of the axe, and the blade was slick with old blood and chunks of rotting meat. She had tried to defend herself, and had scored a hit against the undead assailant before meeting her end.

From the looks of it, Harken had been targeted, but Katrine had been collateral damage. She had been in the wrong place at the wrong time and had seen too much and needed to be eliminated.

Asclepius said a prayer over the bodies and we left the mill, where we found Sheriff Hemlock had succeeded in dispersing the crowd.

“You said this was the second murder,” I said, “tell us about the first one.”

“Two days ago, a patrol of guards along the Lost Coast Road were assaulted by a deranged man near an abandoned barn south of town along the banks of Cougar Creek. The man was obviously sick and insane, his flesh fevered, eyes wild, mouth frothing, and clothes caked with blood. The guards subdued him, but when they checked inside the barn they discovered the mutilated bodies of three men. Although all three bodies were far too disfigured to identify, one of them carried a piece of parchment.”

He reached into his satchel and rummaged around a bit before handing us another piece of parchment. It read:

_Messrs. Mortwell, Hask, and Tabe—_

_A deal has come about that I need capital in. It involves property and gold, and though I am not at liberty to tell you the exact details, it will make us all rich. Come to Bradley’s Barn on Cougar Creek tonight. We can meet there to discuss our futures._

  * _Your Lordship_

“Tarch Mortwell, Lener Hask, and Gedwin Tabe,” continued the Sheriff, “three notorious con men and swindlers well known to law enforcement. I wasn’t particularly surprised at the time to find them murdered—it was only a matter of time before they tried to swindle someone worse than them, after all. But in light of the mill murders and the fact that Mortwell, Hask, and Tabe all bore the same seven-pointed marking on their chests that Harker did, I’m convinced there is something worse than revenge afoot. Their bodyguard, Grayst Sevilla, survived the assault but – he’s not all there anymore. He’s been sent to Habe’s Sanatorium, and you may try to speak to him if you wish, but – I don’t expect you’ll get much out of him.”

“Very well,” I said, “Is there anyone you think we _should_ speak to?”

“Ibor Thorne, another employee at the mill, was the one who discovered the bodies,” answered Hemlock, “he’s in a holding cell at the garrison, but I’m not inclined to suspect him. You might also speak to Ven Vinder. As you may know, he was very – disapproving – of his daughter’s relationship, but I can’t see if he had a connection to the other victims, or if he’s even capable of this.”

“Thank you, Sheriff. I assume Mr. Vinder has already been informed of the situation?”

“Yes, of course. Harker doesn’t have family, but Katrine’s family has been informed. I kept the details from them, naturally.”

We thanked the Sheriff once more and went off to speak to the suspects.

◊◊◊

I let Tenebis take the lead on interrogating Vinder, since he had already gotten on good terms with him over the whole Shayliss situation. Vinder was genuinely distraught at the death of his daughter, and didn’t know anything he wasn’t supposed to know. Asclepius confirmed that there was no deception on his part, and she was almost as good a lie detector as Domoki, so I was inclined to take her word for it.

Meanwhile, Domoki and I went to talk to Ibor Thorne. Thorne was pretty messed up after what he had seen, but we quickly determined that he was innocent as well. Domoki told me that he was holding something back though, so after a little coaxing, what we did learn from Thorne was that Harker had been skimming the books as of late. It seemed plausible that the Scarnetti family, who owned the mill, might have found out about that. The Scarnetti’s were known to be particularly unscrupulous in their business dealings, and there were even rumours circulating that they were behind the arson of a number of competing lumber mills. Ibor said he wouldn’t put it past the Scarnetti’s to have hired someone to get rid of Harker for them.

This left the question of whether or not the Scarnetti’s had any connection to the victims of the first murder. Given that the three prior victims had been con men, it seemed likely to me.

As we were discussing our new suspects, Joanos returned from his little side trip to Brodert Quink’s house. Quink was the local expert on ancient Thassilon, a scholar, like Joanos, and Joanos thought that he might know something about the seven pointed star rune. Joanos had been right. The rune we had seen in the ruins under Sandpoint and at Thistletop, and most recently carved into Harker’s chest was called the Sihedron Rune. The Sihedron Rune did indeed date back to Ancient Thassilon, where it was a symbol of power. It was said to have symbolised the seven virtues of rule (wealth, fertility, honest pride, abundance, eager striving, righteous anger, and rest) as well as the seven schools of magic (abjuration, conjuration, enchantment, evocation, illusion, transmutation, and necromancy; the Thassilonians had not held divination magic in high regard). The Thassilonian rulers had not been particularly good examples of these virtues, and it was thought that the classic mortal sins (greed, lust, pride, gluttony, envy, wrath, and sloth) rose from corruptions of the Thassilonian virtues of rule.

It struck me as odd that a serial killer would use a rune from a long dead empire as his calling card. It seemed the killer must be a scholar. This had occurred to Joanos as well, and it seemed Quink had been all too eager to denounce his involvement in the murders. I quietly added Quink to my list of suspects.

I was in no particular rush to talk to the Scarnetti’s. If they were behind this, I thought I might give them some time to stew in their guilt before I started presenting them with chances to incriminate themselves. In the meantime, I thought we might go and try to have a few words with our mad witness, Grayst Sevilla.

Early the next morning, I gathered up the others and we headed off to Habe’s Sanatorium. I had never been there, myself, but the Sheriff had provided us with directions, and we had no trouble finding it.

The front door had no knocker or bell-pull, and it was unlocked, so we opened it and filed in to the lobby before knocking on the inner door. The man who answered it was an elderly, distinguished looking human with a pair of round spectacles perched on his nose.

“What do you want?” he grumbled.

Somehow, Ulrick had ended up next to the door, and he decided he was going to speak for the group.

“We’re special constables from Sandpoint,” said Ulrick, producing a note from the Sheriff, “we need to speak to Grayst.”

“I’m very busy,” replied the doctor. “Grayst isn’t making any sense, anyhow. You won’t get anything useful out of him.”

“We will be speaking to Grayst with or without your cooperation,” continued Ulrick, his voice terse and his hand hovering over his holstered gun, “it would benefit you to make this easy for us.”

I really did not want Ulrick to start a fight with the Doctor, but this wasn’t looking good.

“Domoki,” I whispered, “would you be so kind as to take Ulrick outside for a moment? I think he needs to calm down.”

In one fluid motion, Domoki stepped forward, grabbed onto Ulrick, pinned his arms to his sides, hoisted him up, and walked out the door with him.

“Doctor Habe, I presume?” I said, trying to deflect the Doctor’s attention away from Ulrick.

The man did not speak, but his eyes came to rest on me and he folded his arms over his chest. Ulrick had not made a good start with him, but the situation was salvageable.

“I’d like to apologize for my… colleague’s behaviour. He’s not quite all there. I’m certain you understand what I mean.”

The Doctor grunted in acknowledgement.

“I understand that Mr. Sevilla is in no condition to be interrogated. That’s not really what we’re here for. We have a healer with us,” I continued, indicating Asclepius, “and while I don’t doubt your competence, Doctor, I’m sure you can agree that a second opinion is, at times, helpful.”

At this, the Doctor’s demeanor seemed to soften a little, and he nodded to Asclepius to follow him inside.

“I can’t imagine all five of you are required for the lady to offer a second opinion on Mr. Sevilla.”

“Of course not,” I answered, “but I trust that you will allow her bodyguard to enter with her in case Mr. Sevilla should be inclined to be violent.”

I was referring, of course, to Tenebis, who fortunately did not seem to mind being referred to as Asclepius’ bodyguard.

“Fine,” said Doctor Habe, “this way, please, if you’ll follow me.”

Asclepius went in after him, followed protectively by Tenebis. I decided to try my luck at going along as well, and while Doctor Habe shot me a bit of a glare, he didn’t say anything. Steranis and Joanos were wise enough to stay in the lobby, and I trusted Domoki to be able to keep Ulrick out of trouble outside.

Doctor Habe led us up two narrow flights of stairs and stopped in a hallway with a number of plain wooden doors bolted from the outside. He indicated the last door in the hallway.

“Mr. Sevilla is in there,” he said. “Good luck.”

He seemed certain that we would need it.

I knocked on the door.

“Grayst?” I called out, “There’s another healer here to see you. May we come in?”

There was no answer, so I unlocked the door and opened it.

Grayst Sevilla was crouched, sobbing, in the corner of the room. His skin was pale, and seemed to be turning almost green. He was sweating profusely. His eyes were milky white and empty. He was restrained in a straightjacket, but did not seem violent at the moment. He looked up and saw me in the doorway, and seemed at least to be aware of my presence. I looked back at Asclepius. For a brief moment, her face seemed to register only anger, but then she calmed herself, walked past me and approached Grayst. As she checked him over, I tried to get him to talk.

“Do you remember what happened, Grayst? We’re trying to make sure no one else gets hurt.”

“Too many teeth…” he muttered. “Razors… sharp… too many teeth… too many… too many teeth… the Skinsaw Man is coming…”

Grayst muttered about teeth for a few more minutes before looking up again. Then he saw Tenebis standing at the door with me. He seemed to recognise Tenebis for some reason, and now he began to speak to him.

“He said. He said you would visit me. His Lordship. The one that unmade me said so. He has a place for you. A precious place. I’m so jealous. He has a message for you. He made me remember it. I hope I haven’t forgotten. The master wouldn’t approve if I forgot. Let me see… let… me… see… Oh! Yes! I remember! He said you should come to the Misgivings soon, to meet the Pack, for they have something wonderful to show you!” His message delivered, he slumped back against the wall and let out a low groan.

Suddenly, the moan rose to a high-pitched shriek, and Grayst got to his feet, and, in a burst of strength, tore free of his straightjacket. He knocked Asclepius aside and lunged at Tenebis. Tenebis grabbed on to him and restrained him, and Grayst struggled to get free. A pair of orderlies emerged from down the hallway and dragged Grayst away from Tenebis. Doctor Habe came up to Tenebis and began to apologize profusely for the incident.

“I’m so sorry Sir. I had no idea he would react that way. Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m fine,” said Tenebis, “but I think we’d better get out of here. I wouldn’t want to cause any more problems.”

Asclepius got up and left the room, closing the door behind her. As soon as the door was the shut, the mask of calm that she had worn when examining Grayst disappeared. Anger re-appeared in her eyes, and she strode purposefully toward Doctor Habe.

“Doctor Habe!” she exclaimed, “that man is in the advanced stages of ghoul fever! Don’t tell me you didn’t recognize the signs!”

“You’re right,” he admitted, “it had occurred to me.”

“As I’m sure you know, ghoul fever is a physical ailment, not an illness of the mind! You are not qualified to be treating it! That man needs a priest!”

“He’s in no shape to be moved!” countered Habe, raising his own voice at Asclepius.

“No, he is not,” agreed Asclepius, tersely, “and he is beyond my skills. I will have Father Zantus make a house call. If we’re quick about it, your patient can still be saved.”

Habe seemed relieved at this resolution, and, apologizing once more to Tenebis for the attack, saw us out.

Once we were outside, I turned to Tenebis.

“Do you remember what he said to you?”

“Something about… the pack? The Misgivings? His Lordship, again.”

“The Misgivings is a nickname for Foxglove manor. They say it’s haunted.”

“Well, I guess that confirms that suspicion,” said Tenebis. “We must go there at once.”

“You don’t think it’s a trap?” asked Joanos.

“Well _OF COURSE_ it’s a trap,” answered Tenebis. “But if Foxglove is killing people just to get my attention, and if there is _any_ chance that walking into his trap will stop the murders, I have to do it. If you don’t want to come, fine, but I’m going!”

“I’ll go with you, of course,” said Asclepius, “but first we must go back to Sandpoint to let Father Zantus know about Grayst.”

“Fine,” said Tenebis.

“I’m in,” I said. “If you and Asclepius are going to go charging into a trap, we might as well bring fire. Besides, I want to find out if the Misgivings really _is_ haunted.”

“I will go too,” said Domoki.

“What the hell,” said Ulrick, “sounds like fun!”

“Really?” said Steranis, “We _know_ it’s a trap! We’re just going to go charging in anyway? That seems stupid.”

Steranis waited a moment to see if anyone would agree with him. Joanos didn’t need to say anything for us to know that he thought it was stupid, so he just stood there next to Steranis and tried to stare the rest of us down.

“What’s wrong, Joanos?” I goaded. “You scared?”

Joanos shot me a nasty look and reluctantly agreed to come.

“Well,” said Steranis, “I guess that’s settled then. It’s about time for me to get a new body anyways.”

I laughed. Samsarans were re-incarnated when they died, so it made sense that Steranis would view the possibility of death in a very different way than the rest of us.

With that question settled, we headed back to Sandpoint to talk to Father Zantus and Sheriff Hemlock.

◊◊◊

When we got back to Sandpoint, the Sheriff was waiting for us.

“Thank goodness you’re back!” he said. “We have another problem. Ghouls have been spotted in the farms. They’re attacking everyone! You must stop them!”

“I’ve a feeling I know where they’re coming from,” said Tenebis.

“Oh?” prompted Hemlock.

“Foxglove Manor. Grayst Sevilla has Ghoul fever, and he’s rambling about the Misgivings. Apparently, ‘his Lordship’ wants to see me there. If there’s a chance I can stop the killings by showing up in his trap, I have to go. We’ll be leaving directly after we speak with Father Zantus.”

“That’s all well and good that you have a lead,” said Hemlock. “But the Ghouls are out there _right now_. They are killing people _right now_. Surely you’re not going to go gallivanting off to Foxglove Manor on the off chance that it will somehow appease a madman, when you could be out there saving the farmers’ lives!”

“Do you even know where they are, aside from a vague ‘in the farms’?” I asked. “We could be out there for days and not find them. At least with Foxglove Manor, we know where we’re going!”

“We have an idea,” said Hemlock. “We just had a survivor come in from the farms. He’s pretty incoherent, but we think we’ve figure out that the ghouls come from Hambley Place. They travel North, they strike, and they retreat.”

We all looked at Tenebis. Hambley Place wasn’t too far out of the way, but I wasn’t sure if Tenebis would be willing to accept any further delays in getting to Foxglove Manor. We wouldn’t let him go there alone, so ultimately, it was his call.

Tenebis sighed heavily and agreed that we’d comb the fields around Hambley Place on the way over. If we found the ghouls, we’d do our best to kill them, but if not, we would go on to Foxglove manor to shut it down from the source.

I bought a couple of pies for the road, since we’d skipped breakfast, and we rode out towards Hambley Place. Part way there, Steranis announced that he was going to call a bear, and rode off into the woods alone. He came back a few minutes later. There was no bear with him, but I guessed it must be on its way.

About an hour further down the road, I started to catch whiffs of the smell of undead. There must be ghouls nearby. Steranis followed the scent off the road into some tall grasses and the rest of us trailed after him.

Just as the scent of undead got to be almost unbearable, Steranis reined in his horse and stared at something only he could see. He didn’t speak.

I gently nudged my horse out of line and pulled up to where I could see through the grasses.

Four dead ghouls lay scattered across a flattened patch of grass. Between them lay the corpse of a huge grizzly bear, torn to shreds by the claws of the undead.

“Um… Steranis?” said Ulrick, hesitantly, “…I think that’s the bear you called.”

“Hush, Ulrick,” said Domoki, “he knows.”

I looked up at Steranis’ face, and within it I picked up sorrow, like I’d seen before, but now anger as well. There was a fire in his eyes that seemed almost out of place in his old, frail body. He wheeled his horse about and urged it onwards.

“We find the rest of these ghouls!” he called back to us, “and we exterminate them!”

I couldn’t agree more.

◊◊◊

It didn’t take long for us to find the rest of the ghouls. Or rather, for them to find us. As we got closer to Hambley Place, the natural din of chirping birds and croaking frogs and scurrying rodents died out, and everything became eerily silent. Then, before I had a chance to react, a pack of ghouls rushed out of the tall grasses right next to me.

The ghouls attacked my mount, and Jack bucked in terror, throwing me to the ground. When I got up, I saw that three of them had set upon him. His natural instinct was to run, but he was surrounded, and he reared up on his hind legs and crashed down upon a ghoul. As the ghoul was crushed under hoof, the other two closed in, clawing and biting, and Jack went down too.

I let loose a torrent of fire on the two remaining ghouls. I burned Jack as well, but that could not be helped. I suspected he was beyond saving already. The ghouls turned toward the source of the fire and seemed to take notice of me for the first time. But it was too late for them. By the time they got to me, one had burned to death, and the other slumped to the ground with an arrow through his neck.

I turned and nodded an acknowledgement to Domoki, then took stock of my surroundings.

Tenebis stood a short ways away, surrounded by a small pile of ghoul bodies. Domoki and Ulrick had managed to stay out of melee and stood down the path, unharmed. Asclepius was healing an injured Joanos. The others’ horses had fled, and Jack lay dead on the ground next to me. But the strangest sight to see was that of some sort of dinosaur that stood perfectly motionless a ways into the grasses. The dinosaur stood on two legs, its eyes staring straight ahead and its beak half open. Resplendent blue and green feathers glistened in the sun. The ghouls’ claw marks stood out in bright red on its shoulder.

“Where is Steranis?” I asked, to whoever might be listening.

“Right there,” answered Domoki, indicating the dinosaur with a nod of his head.

“When did Steranis become a dinosaur?” I asked, mostly rhetorically.

“Just a moment ago,” answered Domoki, “I think you were looking the other way. But then a ghoul got him. He’s paralysed.”

I turned to Asclepius.

“Will it wear off?”

“The paralysis?” she asked, “Yes. Being a dinosaur? Probably, although that’s more up to him.”

The paralysis did wear off, and so did being a dinosaur, although the later came quite a bit later. In the meanwhile, we searched the ghoul bodies, and found another note for Tenebis. This time, he did not read it aloud. I watched his face as he scanned the page, and I saw his mouth set into a line that betrayed concern, but not surprise. He tucked the note into his breast pocket and began walking on towards the Misgivings. We found Asclepius’ horse munching on some grass not too far away, and we figured the rest of the horses, if they had any wits about them, would return to the stables in town on their own. We went on without them, as Tenebis now seemed even more anxious to make his date with Sir Creepy Foxglove.

Asclepius mounted her horse and pulled the old man up behind her, and we set off again toward the Misgivings. Steranis called another bear, and this one made it safely to us. Steranis heard it coming and dismounted. He walked to the edge of the road to greet the bear. Asclepius’ horse shied away as the bear emerged from the woods, and I found myself grabbing the reins and comforting the mare to keep her from bucking and throwing Asclepius off. Steranis acquainted himself with the bear, climbed onto its back, and we continued on our way.

◊◊◊

Before long, Foxglove manor came into view. It stood almost precariously on the top of a hill jutting out into the Varisian Gulf. All around the manor, the ground fell away steeply to the water. The windows were dark, and some were broken and boarded over. All in all, it looked just as haunted as the stories made it out to be. We passed by a burnt down stable on the way up to the house. Parts of the blackened walls still stood, but the roof was gone completely. I suspected the fire was recent, as nothing had yet begun to grow in the ruins. Domoki and I scouted out all around the house, to see if we could see in, but all the curtains were drawn and there was nothing to see.

When we returned, Joanos had picked the lock on the front door, and Tenebis barged right in like he owned the place. As I followed Tenebis into the front hall, I was greeted by a huge stuffed beast with the body of a lion, the tail of a scorpion, the wings of a bat, and the face of a human woman. Joanos identified it as a Manticore. Other, more plebeian hunting trophies lined the walls. As I stood observing the room, I inhaled and caught a whiff of the now familiar scent of burning hair.

“Something’s burning,” I warned the others.

Tenebis opened a door to my left to try to locate the source of the fire. As I looked past Tenebis into the next room, I thought I saw something move near the floor. The floor was coated in a thick layer of dust, and something was disturbing the dust. It looked almost as if footprints were appearing in it, but they were gone just as soon as they appeared. It seemed that _someone_ or _something_ was invisible in here. I pointed toward the open door and whispered for sparks, and in the blink of an eye, Tenebis and everything in the room was covered in cool, glittering golden sparks. I expected to see the outline of an invisible creature in the glitterdust, but to my surprise, the room was truly empty.

“What was that for?” asked Tenebis.

“Sorry. I swear I saw something move in there. I guess I’m a little on edge.”

“I can’t see anything,” complained Tenebis, “like – at all.”

“My bad. The sparks can be a little – blinding sometimes. It’ll wear off.”

“Good to know. I’ll just wait then,” he said, sounding a little perturbed, but only a little.

“You look fabulous, though,” I joked, trying to alleviate the tension a bit. “You’re all sparkly. It’s too bad you can’t see it.”

Tenebis smiled, and moments later, his sight was back.

I turned to see that Domoki, Ulrick, Steranis, and his bear had headed off in the other direction. Tenebis advanced through the room, followed by myself, Asclepius, and Joanos. The dancing parlor contained a grand piano covered in the same thick layer of dust, and not much else. Through the other side of the parlor, we passed through a lavatory, where a number of rats emerged from behind the wash basin and attacked Tenebis. We passed through an empty sitting room, and emerged into the dining room, where we rejoined the other half of the party. As I entered the room, I noticed that Domoki’s normally slate gray skin was almost white, as if something had scared all the colour out of him.

“What happened to you, Domoki?” I asked, in what I hoped passed for a nonchalant and lighthearted tone.

“I walked into that room back there…” he answered, nodding his head back in the direction he had come from, “and suddenly I wasn’t myself anymore. I was a woman named Iesha. Then Aldern appeared out of thin air, and started strangling me with a scarf. He was stronger than me, and I couldn’t stop him. But just as my vision started to swim and I was about to black out, Steranis walked right through Aldern and cut the scarf in half, and I could breathe again.” Domoki held up two halves of an expensive looking red and gold silk scarf.

I looked over at Steranis, quizzically.

“Aldern was never there,” explained Steranis, “Domoki was seeing things. But the scarf did try to strangle him. It just picked itself up off the back of a chair, flew over to Domoki, and wrapped itself around his neck. Then Domoki himself took hold of both ends and began to strangle himself. I yelled at him to snap out of it, but he couldn’t hear me. I cut it in half, and that’s when he came to.”

I puzzled over the conflicting stories for a minute, then turned back to Domoki.

“Iesha was Aldern Foxglove’s wife. I heard that she died a few months ago, but maybe she’s still haunting the place. Perhaps her ghost possessed you for a minute, and tried to take you with her. You’re all right now?”

Domoki nodded. He tucked the scarf under his belt and we set off to explore the rest of the house.

Down the hall, we passed by a strange spiral pattern of mold on the floor. Joanos didn’t know what it meant, so we stepped around it and followed Tenebis back past the front door and up the stairs in silence. Even the ferret was quiet, sensing the nervous mood of the group. Domoki and I took up the rear, and I noticed Domoki kept turning around and looking behind us.

“There’s someone following us…” he said, nervously.

I was pretty sure he was just being paranoid, but just in case, I filled the stairwell behind us with sparks. The sparks settled to the ground, betraying no invisible creatures.

“You’re just on edge, Domoki. I don’t blame you, but there’s no one there.”

“You’re right, I suppose,” he admitted. “I’m still thinking about Iesha’s ghost.”

“So what was it like?” I asked, sensing that he wanted to talk about it, “not being strangled, I mean, but… being someone else. Being her for a minute.”

“I don’t know,” he said, “different, I guess. Like a dream. I knew things, but I didn’t know how I knew them. Fear felt different, but still somehow familiar. I didn’t remember how I’d gotten to where I was. And that’s all I had the time to absorb before – yeah.”

◊◊◊

Upstairs, we passed bedrooms, a musician’s gallery, an art gallery, another lavatory. The rooms were in various states of disrepair, but curiously, each was degraded in a different way. In one room, cobwebs stretched thickly over everything – the furniture, the paintings on the walls, the bookshelves; in another room, everything was coated in a grey-green, foul smelling mould; but it was in the master bedroom that the house’s haunted presence made itself known next.

The master bedroom was in shambles; furniture was broken; the bedframe smashed and the mattress torn apart; holes gouged in the walls, and paintings ripped to shreds. On the far wall of the room hung the one item seemingly untouched by the carnage. It was a painting, turned around to face the wall, but intact. Joanos walked across the room to the far wall and turned the painting around. A dark haired young woman stared out from the painting, with a contemplative but serene look on her face. Suddenly, from behind me, I heard a commotion. I whirled around to see Asclepius, who had unsheathed her dagger, stabbing herself viciously in the stomach. Fortunately, the blade was cleanly deflected by her armour, and Tenebis swiftly disarmed her. Ulrick grabbed her from behind and restrained her before she could do anything else to harm herself. She struggled to get away.

I crossed the room to where the painting was, and turned it back against the wall. Asclepius calmed down almost immediately. She seemed surprised to find herself where she was, disarmed and restrained.

“Ulrick – why are you hugging me?” she asked. “What just happened?”

“You tried to kill yourself,” answered Tenebis.

“I – I don’t remember,” she said. “Joanos turned over the painting, and then, all of a sudden, here I was in a basket hold. I’m missing whatever happened in between.” Asclepius looked around slowly, absorbing her surroundings, and consciously trying to slow her breathing. Ulrick let go of her.

“What was in the painting?” she asked.

“It was Iesha,” answered Domoki, who was standing transfixed, still staring at the back of the painting.

“How do you know that?” I asked, “You’ve never met the woman.”

“I don’t know,” he said, “I just knew.”

Asclepius followed Domoki’s gaze and stared at the back of the painting for a moment, her expression thoughtful, and oddly reminiscent of Iesha’s expression in the painting.

“Is it safe for me to give this back to you now?” asked Tenebis, showing Asclepius her confiscated dagger.

“I don’t know,” said Asclepius. “We still don’t know what happened. I think you’d better keep it for now.”

“Good answer,” said Tenebis. He packed the dagger away securely at the bottom of his pack.

◊◊◊

Up another flight of stairs, we found ourselves in the attic. Steranis’ bear couldn’t fit up the narrow staircase, so Steranis and the bear stayed on the second floor to guard our backs.

We passed by a workshop and a number of storage rooms without incident, but just as Tenebis rounded the corner in the hallway, there was a sudden loud shriek. The sound echoed through the very walls of the place, and died away slowly, hanging in the air before dissipating. Then all was silent once more.

We advanced slowly once more. No one rushed toward the sound of the scream. There was no one alive in this house, and somehow we all knew it.

The next room was an observatory. An expensive but broken telescope lay abandoned beneath the retractable roof. A cool draft blew in from a broken window, carrying the scent of sea water. The frame of the broken window was scorched and bloodstained, and the faint scent of smoke and blood mingled with the salty air blowing in. The smell wormed its way into my mind, and for a brief moment I had a vision of catching on fire and hurling myself out the window. I grabbed onto Domoki’s arm to steady myself, and pushed the thought away. This house was trying to get us all to kill ourselves, and I’d be damned if I’d let it.

Across the hall, Joanos found himself face to face with his own personal heaven. Bookshelves stretched from floor to ceiling in this room, loaded full with old and rare books. Interspersed with the book were sculptures, artifacts, and scroll cases from every part of the world. Joanos took two steps into the room – and froze.

“Joanos?” asked Asclepius, “are you alright?”

Joanos did not answer.

A minute passed, and Joanos did not move from his place, but his body language became agitated, as his shoulders slowly rose, his hands began to fidget, and his feet started shuffle to and fro. The ferret climbed down from his shoulder and scurried out of the room. Finally, Joanos reached up and grabbed hold of a handful of his own hair, and began to rip it out with force.

“Get him out of there!” barked Asclepius.

Tenebis sprang into action. He entered the room, grabbed hold of Joanos, and forcefully dragged him out of the room. Ulrick shut the door behind him. As Joanos slowly regained his senses, he began to speak.

“So many memories – so much knowledge – too fast – it never happened – I have to go back – I have to go back and get the rest – let me back in there!” His voice rose to a shout, as he pleaded to be let back into the room that was driving him insane, but Tenebis was having none of it. He grabbed Joanos firmly by the arm and marched him on down the hallway.

As we moved on further down the hall, we heard the woman’s voice again – the one that screamed. It was coming from behind the next door, and now it was sobbing. The door was locked and Tenebis kicked it down and strode inside. I heard something shift from inside the room, and the sobbing sound was replaced once again by a piercing scream.

“You! Who are you! Get out of my way! Let me go kill my husband!”

“By all means,” I heard Tenebis say, and a moment later the owner of the voice appeared in the hallway. It may have been Iesha Foxglove, but she most certainly was not alive. The shambling, twisted corpse lurched out the door and turned toward us, her face half obscured by her dark, now matted hair, and half rotted away.

“Let me go kill my husband!” she yelled again, and we all stood to one side against the hallway wall. That was what _we_ had come here to do, after all, and if she wanted to make our job easier, all the better for us.

She passed by Joanos, Asclepius, and me without incident. Then she spotted Domoki. Pushing past Ulrick, she charged at Domoki, her bony claws slashing through the air. Domoki blocked her first round of blows, and I stepped back out into the hallway and summoned my powers.

“Stand down or die!” I yelled, as I began to cast. I had lost far too many friends recently, and made one new one, and I wasn’t about to lose him too.

Iesha paid me no heed.

“_I’m_ not your husband!” babbled Domoki, “Don’t kill _me!_”

“Give me back my scarf!” she screeched.

“Ok,” said Domoki, with a shrug, as he quickly produced the red and gold silk scarf tucked into his belt. She snatched it from him, and tore it to shreds with her claws. Then she turned away and proceeded down the stairs, once again intent on hunting down and killing her husband. The rest of us followed behind, calling ahead to Steranis to let the revenant past.

When we got back down to the main floor, we passed once again through the room with the stuffed Manticore. As I walked past it, I fell the familiar sting of fire and smelled the burning hair once more. I whirled around. The stuffed Manticore was still there, completely immobile and harmless.

Domoki looked over at me, quizzically.

“It burned me!” I said.

“U-huh. Sure it did,” said Joanos.

“No, really, look,” I insisted, pulling up my sleeve to show the burn marks. But to my surprise, while my arm still stung like crazy, there was no visible mark. “Never mind,” I finished. “I guess I’m just going insane.”

Iesha stopped at the spiral growth of mould in the hallway. There, she got down on her knees, and started clawing at the floor, as if trying to scratch through it to something underneath. We gave her a moment to do so, but as she scratched away the mould, she found nothing but bare floor underneath. She uncovered no trap door, nor any sort of mechanism that might allow her to pass through. Tenebis gave her a kick.

“Get back on track,” he warned, “go kill your husband.”

She ignored him, and kept scratching at the floor. Her fingers were now bloody as she scratched at the stone floor, and she seemed singly focused on this task to the exclusion of anything else.

“Should we put her out of her misery?” asked Tenebis, “this is going nowhere.”

Asclepius sighed and agreed that would be best. There was no mercy in leaving the undead as they were. Best to give them a quick death and put their souls to rest.

With Iesha still clawing at the ground, never so much as looking up, it took only a single blow to the back of the neck for Tenebis to end her miserable existence. Asclepius said a prayer, and we moved on down to the basement.

◊◊◊

The basement was infested with rats, which, while difficult to kill individually, being small and nimble, were remarkably easy to kill in droves with swathes of fire. Here we found the servant’s quarters, kitchens, pantry and wine cellar. Joanos lifted several bottles of expensive wine, hoping we wouldn’t notice.

Down another hallway, we were stopped by a locked door. It was stouter than most, and after body slamming into it a couple of times, Tenebis reluctantly stepped aside to let Joanos pick the lock.

We found ourselves in some sort of bizarre laboratory. Broken glassware and shattered pottery jars littered the benchtops along with rusty instruments and tools. Three cages stood in the center of the room, containing the remains of diseased rats. The stained glass windows to the east seemed out of place in this room, unlike in those above it. Joanos looked around and leafed through some books, taking the occasional note in his journal. Through another door, we found more stairs leading further underground. Taking the lead once more, Tenebis headed down them, the rest of us following as quietly as possible behind.

The straight, narrow, dark staircase ended in a landing, fifteen feet wide. On the other side of the landing, the floor was torn up to reveal a spiral staircase, roughly hewn into the stone, and littered with mould and fungus, leading further down. It bore a striking resemblance to the spiral mould pattern in the hallway up above, and it occurred to me that this was what the undead Iesha had been looking for. The spiral staircase clearly predated the house in its construction, and the telltale rotting-meat smell of undead wafted up from it.

Tenebis crossed the landing and began to head down the stairs.

“Just going to go charging down there, face first into any danger?” asked Joanos.

“I thought that was my job,” answered Tenebis. “That’s how we do things, right? I’m the human shield, and everyone else gathers behind me?”

“It’ll be fine…” I said, hoping I sounded more confident than I felt. “Besides, Tenebis is too pretty to die!” I finished, hoping to inject a little lightheartedness into the situation.

Tenebis struck a heroic pose in response to my comment, and Domoki laughed. Strangely, I found myself looking at Domoki, rather than Tenebis, at this moment. I couldn’t deny that Domoki was powerfully ugly, but when he laughed, his face was filled with such pure, innocent joy that I found it almost pleasant to look at. Almost.

The nervous mood returned quickly after our brief moment of levity, and we headed down the uneven spiral stairs into the darkness below. The stairs descended on and on for what must have been 100 feet.

We found ourselves in a dark, limestone cavern, dripping with moisture. Blue and black mould grew in strange, unnatural patterns on the walls. Three tunnels branched out from the cave. Down the first, we found a ghoulish dire bat, which we killed, but not before it bit me. The paralysis wore off fairly quickly, and we looted the bat’s lair and moved on.

The second and third tunnels joined up with each other a little further down, where we were ambushed by five ghouls that had been hanging from the ceiling. They weren’t too much of a hassle, and as we moved further and further in, the ghouls that we encountered were less and less discrete. Somehow, though, one of the ghouls managed to get up in Asclepius’ face, which was a bother, since she was unarmed. Asclepius squeezed into a small recess in the stone wall to escape it, and stayed there until Tenebis got there to cut it down. When the ghouls had been slain, Asclepius crawled out of her hiding place.

“I see you’ve come out of the closet, Asclepius,” I joked, “welcome to the club.” It was a terrible joke, as I realized later, but this place made me nervous, and my sense of humour suffered for it.

“Ohhhh,” muttered Ulrick quietly to himself, as the obvious implication of my joke finally dawned on him. “I get it.”

At the end of the tunnel, we found ourselves ejected on to a steep stone ledge that spiralled its way around a chasm twenty feet wide and at least fifty feet deep. From the bottom of the chasm, I could hear the sloshing of sea water. About halfway down the slope, a single stone door stood in the wall.

We carefully made our way down. I must not have been the only one that was nervous down here, because Tenebis actually slowed down when he reached the door, and let Joanos inspect it for traps before barging through.

“Lord Foxglove!” he sang out, “you called?”

To my surprise, there was an answer from within,

“You! You were supposed to die! How did you make it this far? You were supposed to die!”

“I had some help,” answered Tenebis, slowly advancing into the room. I could not see what was happening, as I was near the back of the group lined up single file on the narrow ledge, and there was a large bear in my way.

“You brought your friends, I see. A pity. But no matter. They shall all die too.”

Tenebis allowed him to speak, as he slowly advanced into the room, followed by Joanos and the bear. Then I heard the distinctive ringing sound of metal on metal, as Tenebis unsheathed his sword, and the fighting began.

By the time I got into the room, the bear was down. I crouched behind its body and began to shoot magic missiles at our foe. Although I knew it was Foxglove, I would not have guessed as much. His hands were the only part of him that was visible beneath his embroidered tailcoat, and they had wasted away to a pair of gaunt, bony claws. His face was obscured by a mask – a mask bearing Tenebis’ face.

Tenebis and Joanos attacked him mercilessly. Foxglove seemed to completely ignore Joanos, and focused only on hurting Tenebis. Domoki and Ulrick crowded in behind me and began to focus their fire. It was not long before Tenebis fell, and deep gash cut into his face.

“Tenebis down!” I called out to Asclepius, who was still around the corner, and couldn’t see what was happening.

I expected Foxglove to now turn and fight Joanos, who was still attacking him, but instead he continued to ignore Joanos, leaned down, and licked Tenebis’ wound with a long forked tongue. Only when he was finished did he finally turn and attack Joanos.

Foxglove had three arrows sticking out of him, and had been hit multiple times by bullets and magic missiles. He had gashes in both arms and his torso, which oozed thick, dark, blood, yet he still stood. Joanos began to retreat. Foxglove lurched after him. Finding the way out filled with his allies and a fallen bear, Joanos found he could back away no further. He turned, and began to circle the room, slowly backing up with each parry, and forcing Foxglove to lurch after him as Domoki, Ulrick and I continued to shoot. On his third trip around the room, Foxglove finally sunk to his knees, riddled with holes, and collapsed.

Domoki, Joanos, and I dragged the unconscious bear’s body aside, and Asclepius finally got in. She revived Tenebis, then the bear, and Tenebis began to look around.

The cave had been converted into an office of sorts. A rickety table stood in the center of the room, serving as a desk. It’s surface house a sizeable collection – empty potion bottles, bits of torn and bloodstained clothing, loose sheets of paper, a whetstone, a comb. Tenebis walked up to the table, picked up the comb, and turned it over in his hands.

“Hey!” he remarked, “This is mine! I wondered where that went.”

He put the comb back down, and glanced that the rest of the pile.

“_All_ of this is mine,” he concluded. “Foxglove’s been stalking me.”

Next to the pile of Tenebis’ things was a stack of paper. Tenebis picked it up and began leafing through it. I stood behind his shoulder and looked on. They were sketches. Sketches of Tenebis, I realized, every one of them. The sketches portrayed Tenebis in various heroic poses: brandishing a sword high in the air; fighting off hordes of giants; standing over the corpse of a slain Dragon. As Tenebis leafed through the stack, I was surprised to notice that he was portrayed not only with and without various types of armour, but also both with and without his shirt. When he got to the first topless drawing, he threw down the stack of sketches in disgust.

“Oh, come on, Tenebis, that was a good picture of you,” I began to tease, but quickly realized I was going too far. Tenebis was legitimately creeped out, and I would have been too in his place. I shut up after that.

Joanos was standing on the other side of the room, and he too, had found something interesting. He cleared his throat and began to read aloud:

“_Aldern—_

_You have served us quite well. The delivery you harvested from the caverns far exceeds what I had hoped for. You may consider your debt to the Brothers paid in full. Yet I still have need of you, and when you awaken from your death, you should find your mind clear and able to understand this task more than in the state you lie in as I write this._

_You shall remember the workings of the Sihedron ritual, I trust. You seemed quite lucid at the time, but if you find after your rebirth that you have forgotten, return to your townhouse in Magnimar. My agents shall contact you there soon—no need for you to bother the Brothers further. I will provide the list of proper victims for the Sihedron ritual in two days’ time. Commit that list to memory and then destroy it before you begin your work. The ones I have selected must be marked before they die, otherwise they do my master no good and the greed in their souls will go to waste._

_If others get in your way, though, you may do with them as you please. Eat them, savage them, or turn them into pawns—it matters not to me._

_—Your Mistress, Wanton of Nature’s Pagan Forms”_

“Well,” I said, “it sounds like we’re going to Magnimar.”

◊◊◊

We wasted no time in getting out of the haunted manor. Once outside, Asclepius checked us all over in more detail. She had bad news for me and Tenebis. We had both contracted ghoul fever. She assured us that Father Zantus could cure it when we got back to town. Then she turned to look at Steranis’ bear.

“Steranis,” she asked, “how long is this bear staying with us?”

“The magic that brought him to me lasts three hours,” he answered. “Pretty soon, he’ll be heading back into the forest.”

Asclepius walked over to the bear and examined the bite marks in his side.

“Steranis,” she said, “I need to speak with you inside.”

Asclepius led Steranis inside. As she turned to go, she caught hold of Domoki’s eyes with her own, and gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head.

Domoki nodded silently. Asclepius disappeared into the house with Steranis.

I approached the bear cautiously. It was getting agitated in Steranis’ absence, and I couldn’t let it get away until the time was right. The bear looked at me with its big, dark eyes, as if trying to understand what was going on. I stretched out my hands, palms out, and walked up to its head. It sniffed at me, and seemed to decide I was ok.

“We can’t let a grizzly bear with ghoul fever out into the woods,” said Domoki, to Ulrick. “I might need your help.”

“What?” said Ulrick, confused, and missing the significance of Asclepius’ message.

“The bear has ghoul fever. Steranis’ can’t keep it around long enough to bring it back to Father Zantus. You and I are going to climb up to that second story window and shoot it dead before it gets loose in the woods and infects the rest of the local wildlife.”

Ulrick understood, and with one long, sad look at the bear, he went inside with Domoki.

I continued to distract the bear until they got into place. Then I glanced up to the window, and with a nod from Domoki, I stepped back. Domoki and Ulrick opened fire. The bear roared in pain, turned tail, and ran. It dashed for the woods, heading for cover as fast as it could. It didn’t make it a hundred feet.


	8. Ransom

When we got back to Sandpoint, we had a meeting with the Sheriff to inform him of what had happened at Foxglove Manor. I suggested burning the whole place to the ground, and to my surprise, Sheriff Hemlock agreed, and said he would send out a team to do so.

When the others had left, I asked Hemlock if he wouldn’t mind if I checked on the prisoners from Thistletop. I wasn’t sure why, but I was feeling paranoid about the possibility of their escape.

“Oh, they’re not here anymore,” he answered casually.

“What?!?”

“I sent them to Magnimar for trial.”

“Couldn’t you have waited until we got back? We could’ve gone with them. In fact, we’re going to Magnimar now anyway to find out who Foxglove was working for.”

“Relax, Urhador,” he assured me. “I sent ten guards with them. The ones that were on loan from Magnimar. You can meet them there.”

“Did Nualia wake up?” I questioned, still worried.

“Oh, goodness no! Father Zantus took care of that. She’ll remain sedated until she’s secure in Magnimar’s prison.”

I breathed a shallow sigh of relief. I was still worried about this, but I tried to tell myself I was being unreasonable.

I went and told the others, and we agreed we’d leave for Magnimar tomorrow.

◊◊◊

As we were getting ready to leave, I realized I needed to buy a new horse. After all that had happened yesterday, I had almost forgotten about losing Jack. He was a good horse, steady and gentle, and I would miss him.

I left breakfast early to go to the stables and pick one out. Tenebis stopped me as I was leaving.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“To the stables. I need to pick out a new horse.”

“You can have mine,” he said.

“Why?” I asked, slightly confused. “Don’t you like yours?”

“Yeah, but I don’t need him anymore,” he answered. “Check this out!”

He walked outside, and I followed him. The others came out too, obviously wondering where this was going. Then, after looking around to check if anyone else was watching (they were) Tenebis closed his eyes in concentration, and as I watched, a pair of white, feathery wings sprouted from his back. When they had reached their full size, a span of nearly twelve feet, he opened his eyes. A pang of envy surged up within me, and I had to push it back down. As a Dragon spawn, I might have wings someday too, but not for quite a bit longer.

Tenebis gave himself a running start and began to flap his wings. Seconds later, he took flight. He flew sixty feet down the street, then turned down an alley. Unfortunately, his turn radius was somewhat larger than he had accounted for, and rather than flying down the alley, he flew smack into the corner of the general store. He fell twenty feet to the ground, and I ran to catch up.

“I’m ok, I’m ok!” he assured me, as he picked himself up of the ground and shook off his wings.

“So I need some practice,” he admitted, “but what better way to do that than by flying to Magnimar!”

A little dazed, Tenebis decided to walk to the stables, rather than attempting flight in between buildings again. When we got there, he introduced me to his horse.

“Urhador,” he said, in a grandiose voice, “meet Froghemoth Toadhemoth MacHorsington!”

“Seriously?” I asked, incredulously, “You named your horse Froghemoth?”

“No,” he corrected, matter-of-factly, “I named him Froghemoth Toadhemoth MacHorsington. He also responds to ‘Mac’.”

“Well then. ‘Mac’ it is,” I said, as I stepped forward and patted Mac on the nose.

◊◊◊

We got to Magnimar relatively without incident. Tenebis flew up ahead, practicing his maneuvers, and the rest of us followed on horseback. A lone Hill Giant did decide to attack us on our way, but it quickly regretted that decision. Steranis made friends with another Tiger, who decided to come with us. I thought to myself that if the tiger knew of the average life expectancy of Steranis’ animal companions, he wouldn’t be so eager to join us, but I didn’t say that out loud.

When we arrived at the gate, we were once again stopped and questioned by the guards.

“What’s your business in Magnimar?” asked a bored looking guardsman.

“We’re from Sandpoint,” I answered, “Sheriff Hemlock sent some prisoners here a few days back to stand trial. I expect we’ll be required to testify, as we were the ones that brought them in.”

“Don’t know anything about that,” answered the guard, sternly. He turned to his partner, “You hear anything about that?”

The other guard shook his head.

“They would have come through here yesterday, most likely. Ten guards with them. Some of your own. You couldn’t have missed them.”

“You’re mistaken, sir,” answered the second guard, “Guards from Magnimar would never bring prisoners in through the North Gate. This is a respectable part of town, and we like to keep the riff-raff out. If you’re looking for criminals, they’ll have gone in the Mud Gate.”

“Ah, my mistake, good sir,” I said, “we’ll circle around.”

The guard took a moment to look us up and down.

“No need for that. You all look respectable enough. And if Sherriff Hemlock sent you, there shouldn’t be a problem.”

The gates swung open, and we urged our horses through. We rode straight through upper town to the Pediment Building, where I assumed they would have taken the prisoners. The guard who let us in was a little skeptical of us when we asked to speak to a Justice. But we showed him a note from Sheriff Hemlock, which he squinted at, then grunted and waved us down a hall into Justice Ironbriar’s office.

Behind a heavy mahogany desk sat a middle aged Elven man hunched over an imposing pile of documents. After introducing ourselves, I handed over the note from Hemlock. He took it, and without even reading it, added it to the top of a stack of papers on the corner of his desk.

“Have the prisoners from Sandpoint arrived yet?” I asked, a little nervous since the guardsmen at the North Gate hadn’t even heard of them, and a little miffed at the Justice’s dismissive attitude.

“Prisoners from Sandpoint? What do you mean?” answered Justice Ironbriar, not looking up from the papers in front of him.

A spike of anger surged up inside me. It seemed my nemesis had escaped. I had to take a minute to breathe before answering the Justice.

“We brought some prisoners in to the Sandpoint Garrison last week. They’re both guilty of treason, and multiple counts of murder. Sheriff Hemlock said he had sent them ahead to Magnimar with the ten guards you loaned him. Have the guards returned?”

“No,” answered the Justice, still looking down at his paperwork. “I had assumed they were still in Sandpoint. When did they leave?”

“The day before we did. They should have arrived by now.”

“Perhaps they were delayed,” answered the justice, dismissively.

“There is only one road from here to Sandpoint. We would have run into them on the way,” I insisted. “Something has happened to them.”

Finally he looked up and met my focused gaze.

“Hmm,” he said, leaning back in his chair, “that is… concerning. Tell me about these prisoners.”

I took a deep breath. I didn’t exactly want to relive what happened at the glassworks in retelling it, but it had to be told if we were to be taken seriously. Fortunately, Asclepius noticed my hesitation, and took over.

She gave the justice a summary of Tsuto and Nualia’s crimes, described them, and warned the Justice particularly of Nualia’s extraordinary abilities. With her on the loose, as it seemed was the case, and the powerful allies she must have, if she was able to escape on the way to town, all of Magnimar could be in danger. Justice Ironbriar was finally paying attention.

The Justice took down some notes on the missing criminals, then dismissed us. I couldn’t help but feel that Justice Ironbriar was still not taking this as seriously as he should. As we left the court building and got back on our mounts, I quietly promised to take it upon myself to track down Tsuto and bring him to justice.

When we had gotten a short ways away, Domoki rode up beside me and got my attention.

“There was something wrong with Justice Ironbriar,” he said.

“Yeah,” I answered, unable to hide the note of sarcasm from my voice, “he’s not very good at his job. You’ve got good old fashioned nepotism to blame for that one, I suspect.”

“No, I mean more than that,” Domoki insisted, “he wasn’t surprised by anything we told him in there.”

“I thought he just wasn’t paying attention at first,” I admitted.

“He wasn’t paying attention because he already knew everything you were about to tell him.”

As far as I knew, Domoki had never failed as a lie detector before.

“Shit,” I admitted, “if the Justice is in on this – I guess we’ll just have to deal with it on our own.”

◊◊◊

We checked in at the Blue Bunyip that night. It was the most expensive inn in town, but with our newfound wealth, we could afford it, and we discovered that it was well worth the price. The food was exquisite, the wine to Joanos’ liking (he was the expert on that, after all), and they even had imported tea from Tien, which made Domoki happy as a clam. As I was just about to turn in, Tenebis caught my attention.

“Oh! Urhador! There was something I was supposed to remind you about when we got to Magnimar,” he said, with an exaggerated look of concentration on his face, and if racking his brain for some detail. “I’m trying to remember what it was.”

I could tell he was teasing me, but I honestly didn’t remember what he was getting at.

“Oh! Yes! I remember now!” he said, in mock excitement, “It was right after I had so very tastefully dealt with that Shayliss Vinder situation. Something about being a hero and – enjoying the benefits that went with that?”

“Oh! Yes! Of course!” I said, remembering now, and playing along with his joke. “Leveraging my hero status to seduce people! Naturally! I’d better get right to that!”

I chuckled, and sauntered off to my room.

When I got there, I shaved my face, and then spent several minutes inspecting myself in the mirror. I was just beginning to see the odd grey hair here and there, standing out against my otherwise jet black mane. Fortunately for me, half-elves aged slowly. Though I was 62, I could pass for a human of forty if you disregarded my slightly pointed ears.

As I used my magic more and more, my Dragon’s blood was getting stronger, and I noticed a few brass coloured scales had started to grow around my wrists and ankles. I rolled up my sleeves to show them off. I had, of course, been joking when I answered Tenebis’ question, but I found myself now considering it. I had nothing useful to do until at least tomorrow, and what with my nemesis unaccounted for, I also had great deal of frustration to work out. I shrugged, walked out the door, and headed off into the streets of Magnimar to find a gay bar.

◊◊◊

When I awoke the next morning, I was alone. The man I’d brought back from the bar last night had left before I woke. I preferred it that way. It was uncomplicated.

I dressed and headed downstairs to meet the others for breakfast. The men slowly trickled down, but as we finished breakfast, Asclepius still had not joined us.

“Tenebis,” I asked, “where is Asclepius?”

“I don’t know,” he answered. “Haven’t seen her since she went to bed last night. Why do you ask?”

“Oh… I thought you and her were… never mind. Do you think we should go check on her?”

“I think that might be a good idea,” he decided.

We went upstairs and knocked on her door. There was no answer.

“Asclepius!” called out Tenebis. “Are you in there?”

There was no answer.

“We’re coming in!” he called, and tested the door. It was unlocked.

Tenebis took a few steps into the room, and stopped.

Asclepius was not there. Her bed was still neatly made, and did not appear to have been slept in. On the pillow was a note, neatly folded and tied shut with a single piece of twine.

“I have _had_ it with these motherfucking notes!” yelled Tenebis, as he stormed over to the bed and picked it up.

Tenebis read the note silently, then handed it off to Domoki, who was standing next to him and looking worried. Domoki began to read it out loud.

“If you want to see – Pigeon – alive again…”

“Wait, does it _say_ Pigeon?” interrupted Ulrick.

“No, it says her name, I just can’t pronounce it. Let me finish.”

Domoki started over.

“If you want to see Pigeon alive again, come to the Locksmith’s guild _alone_ at 6 pm tonight. Bring 3,000 crowns, in gold. Don’t involve the city guard. The pack is watching. Signed, Elsapeth”

“Who – or what – is the pack?” asked Steranis.

“They’re the most notorious group of criminals in town,” I answered. “Sometimes they’re happy to stick to thieving, but kidnapping and murder aren’t beyond them either. You cross them, your family dies.”

In this moment I was very glad I hadn’t visited my parents last night. Unless they’d been watching us since the last time we were in town, the Pack wouldn’t know where to find them. I considered warning them, but decided there was no way to do so without putting them at further risk. The safest thing to do would be to not make contact at all.

“So what do we do?” asked Ulrick.

“Well, from a strictly practical perspective,” began Joanos, “3,000 crowns is cheaper than the 5,000 it will take to bring her back if they kill her. But if we start giving in to ransom demands now, they’ll continue, and they’ll just get bigger.”

“I can’t believe you’re making this about the money,” I said, doing my best to sound just as disgusted with him as I felt, “but I agree that we shouldn’t just pay if we can find another way to get her back.”

“As a matter of principle, I don’t _like_ to roll over like that. It sends the wrong message,” agreed Tenebis.

“I do think we should get together the money, just in case, though,” I explained. “It’ll get us in the door. Then we’ll see if we can find some other way to get her back.”

“Should we inform the city guard of our plan, so they can keep civilians out of area? In case things go bad?” asked Domoki.

“Well… they say they’re watching us,” said Steranis, “they’ll know if we do, and they won’t be pleased.”

“The question is, will they kill her?” I thought out loud, “If we show up at the meet with guards, I have no doubt that they will, but if the guards limit their involvement to preventing civilian casualties, the Pack might let that go.”

“They won’t kill her before the meet,” asserted Joanos. “They want money first, and if they killed every ransom victim whose family freaked out and went to the guard, they’d be broke. The city guard knows better than to get too involved with Pack affairs anyway. Anything that’s likely to get her killed, the guard will refuse to do in the first place.”

Taking Joanos on his word, we packed up our fighting gear and headed back to the Pediment building to speak to a Justice. I hoped we’d get a different one this time.

◊◊◊

For once, luck was on our side, and Justice Ironbriar was not in. We were shown in to see Justice Vernelli this time.

Domoki handed over the ransom note, which the Justice read very slowly before looking up and addressing us.

“I’m very sorry about your friend,” she said. “Unfortunately, there is very little that we can do about the Pack. We don’t know much about them, and every time I’ve gone against them, I’ve quickly started losing constables. I regret to say that they effectively operate with impunity here in Magnimar.”

I was unsurprised at her response, but encouraged by how honest she was about it. She really did sound like she wanted to help, but the risk to her people was too great.

“We’re planning to take them on ourselves,” I said.

At this, the Justice sat bolt upright in her chair.

“What we’re asking from you is to keep civilians out of the area,” I continued. “We want a perimeter.”

“That I can do…” she said, slowly, “but what makes you think you are capable of taking on the Pack where all my people have failed?”

“I don’t know,” I said, quite honestly. “I’m not even sure that we will choose to fight. We’ll need to assess the situation when we get there. Depending on how many of them there are, and how powerful they look, we may be forced to just pay the ransom. But I want to keep our options open, and that means clearing the area of civilians.”

“I feel obligated to point out that _you_ are civilians,” she said with a smirk.

“Not exactly,” I countered, “we’re special constables from Sandpoint.” I was slightly ashamed to be borrowing a line out of Ulrick’s playbook, but I didn’t let that stop me. I caught Ulrick smirking off to my side. He had noticed it too.

She took a minute to consider this, looking us all up and down to try to size us up.

“Very well,” she said. “I have no idea if you’re capable of taking Elsapeth down or not. But if all you want from me is a perimeter, I’m willing to provide that. I wish you luck. There’s a price on her head. If you bring her in, dead or alive, you’ll find yourselves well rewarded for your trouble. But I must warn you: if you attack the Pack and fail to kill their leader, they’ll be after everyone you love.”

I nodded in acknowledgement, though that was no news to me.

“What can you tell us about her?” asked Joanos. “The more we know, the better our chances.”

“She’s a witch,” replied the Justice, “with a giant dog of some sort for a familiar. She herself is an Elf. Her second in command, and also her lover, I hear, is a human ranger. I know nothing of any of the other members of the Pack, except that it’s been said that they have children working for them. Easier to sneak in and out of crowds that way.”

I had to admit that that complicated things a bit. While I was willing to accept a certain amount of risk when it came to Asclepius’ own safety, I was considerably more risk averse when it came to potentially brainwashed children. I reminded myself that we had not committed to a plan of action, and that either way, we would still need to assess the situation when we got there. I thanked Justice Vernelli for her help, and we headed out to get cash for ransom.

◊◊◊

We went to see Balthazar next, to trade in more looted goods for cash. He remembered us from the last time, and asked as jokingly what form we would like our payment in this time.

“Gold,” I said, without further comment.

“So no dead raising going on this time, then?” he prompted.

“No,” I answered.

“Where’s your healer? Were you able to bring her back last time?”

This man asked too many questions.

“Yes. She’s fine. She’s indisposed at the moment, and wasn’t able to come with us to meet you.”

I didn’t want news that we were dealing with the Pack getting out. Balthazar could tell I was holding something back, but he shrugged and got us our gold.

Tenebis took the gold and headed out with the rest of the group. I lagged behind, and when they had all left, I approached Balthazar again.

“Are you able to send a message to Ameiko for me?” I asked.

“Certainly. By caravan or by magic?” he inquired.

“By magic please. I want her to know this right away.”

“Very well. You know the limitations. Twenty-five words or less. Write your message down here.”

I took the paper he offered me and thought carefully about how to word my message. I needed to be cryptic enough that Balthazar wouldn’t understand it, but clear enough that Ameiko would. After a moment of thought, I began to write:

_Your brother has gone on a little trip. No one here knows where he is. I promise I'll find him. –Urhador_

I counted my words and passed the sheet over to Balthazar. He raised one eyebrow at the message, but thankfully did not ask questions this time. If he offered sending as a service, he must be accustomed to cryptic messages. The sending spell was a longer ritual, which took ten minutes, but I waited around while he cast it. When he had finished, he returned to the counter.

“She has received your message,” he said.

“Did she respond?”

“Yes,” he answered, but did not elaborate.

_“What did she say?”_

“Shit.”

“What?”

“That’s what she said. ‘Shit.’ If your message was less cryptic, perhaps I could offer some insight into the meaning of ‘shit’ but it wasn’t.”

“That’s fine,” I said. I paid for the message, and left.

◊◊◊

The ransom meet was at 6. At 3, Joanos turned himself invisible and scouted out the location, mapped out the lines of sight, and trapped the sewer grates shut. At 5, Domoki, Ulrick, and I showed up and took our positions on rooves. At 5:15, the street started to empty of civilians. I was pleased to note that Justice Vernelli was holding up her part of the deal. At 5:30, a large dog walked down the streets of the block alone. It seemed the other side was doing their scouting as well. The dog noticed us, but it did not attack, and neither did we. At 6, Tenebis showed up with the bag of gold, accompanied by Joanos and Steranis’ tiger. Steranis himself stayed at the end of the lane and watched their backs. Joanos cast message so we could communicate without speaking aloud, and hung back behind Tenebis and the tiger.

Tenebis knocked on the door of the locksmith’s guild building. The door opened. Behind it was great beast of a man wielding a club. He looked Tenebis up and down, then stepped aside. An elven woman came into view. I could not see much further into the building from my perch on the rooftop, but I heard Joanos’ voice whispering in my ear as if he were right next to me.

“There’s the hired muscle, there’s Elsapeth, and in the back of the room they’ve got Asclepius flanked by two – children, I suppose, but there’s something off about them,” relayed Joanos.

“Let’s see the money,” demanded Elsapeth.

Tenebis held up the heavy bag of gold, but did not hand it over.

“I want to speak to her,” said Tenebis.

Elsapeth stepped back and nodded to her brute. He swung at Tenebis with the club. Tenebis took the hit, then drew his sword and swung back. Domoki began to loose arrows, Ulrick got ready to shoot, and I began to cast. The tiger tensed up, ready to spring as soon as the pesky sword was out of the way.

The door slammed shut. Tenebis body slammed against it, but it held. Then we heard Elsapeth’s voice again, from inside.

“If I don’t hear your weapons dropping in the next five seconds, there won’t be a body left for you to recover!”

Then I heard Joanos’ whisper once again.

“Fucking Ratlings, that’s what they are. They’re going to eat her, the little fuckers…”

Tenebis dropped his sword on the ground with a clatter. The rest of us followed suit. We waited.

A sewer grate down the alley rattled and shifted, but it would not open. Joanos had jammed it well.

“Gentlemen,” whispered a voice in my ear, Steranis’ this time, “we’ve got company. The ranger’s coming in from behind.”

The ranger had sighted us, and arrows soon began to fly in our direction. We turned around and scrambled to pick up our weapons. Steranis stuck his tiger on the ranger while we provided cover.

“They’re escaping out the back,” whispered Domoki’s voice through the message link, “the ranger is a diversion.”

Domoki took a running start and jumped across the alley onto the roof of the locksmith’s guild building. He crept across the roof toward the back door to get a better view.

“Joanos is right, they’re Ratlings,” he informed us, “they’ve taken off their human masks, and they’re ready to eat Asclepius on command. I have a clear shot, but I can’t take them both out in one go.”

I attempted to mimic Domoki’s running jump and join him on the other roof, but my long jump was less impressive than his. I jumped short, slammed into the gutter, and ended up in a heap at the bottom of the alley. I painfully picked myself up and limped over to the corner. I peered around it.

The hired brute walked in front leading Asclepius, who was still flanked by the Ratlings. Elsapeth followed behind. From down the alley, two more Ratlings stood with bows, providing cover for their Packmates’ escape.

“I can see them now too, Domoki,” I whispered back through the link, “I’ll get the one closest to me. You get the other one. On three… one… two… three!”

The Ratling nearest me erupted into flames. An arrow sprouted from the other one’s neck. It made a gurgling sound as blood poured out of the wound, and then both Ratlings fell to the ground.

Elsapeth followed the arrow’s trajectory up to Domoki’s post on the roof and began to cast a spell.

I took an arrow to the side and winced. The other Ratlings had spotted me.

Moments later, Ulrick appeared on the rooftop next to Domoki, and Tenebis and the tiger ran around the corner to join me.

◊◊◊

When the dust cleared, two Ratlings were dead, one Ratling was unconscious, Elsapeth was knocked out, her hired brute was dead, and the remaining Ratling and the Ranger had fled. I was down, but still conscious, Joanos had been blinded, and Ulrick had been knocked off the roof. Asclepius was alive, and at first glance, did not appear injured, although her complete silence was telling. They must have done something to her to prevent her from speaking, which made sense, since she was a caster.

Steranis approached her to examine her.

“They’ve sewed her mouth shut,” he told us, in a grim voice.

“Crude, but effective,” mused Joanos.

“We’ll need to cut out the stitches,” assessed Steranis.

“I’ll do it,” said Tenebis. He pulled out his dagger. “Ready?” he asked Asclepius. She nodded. Steadying her face with his left hand, Tenebis carefully and very gently cut out the stitches holding her mouth closed. She bled, but she did not flinch once.

“Pigeon, are you alright?” asked Domoki.

“A little shaken,” she admitted, “but alive, and with no plans to change that.”

Tenebis let her go, picked up Elsapeth’s body, slung it over his shoulder, and led us inside. Ulrick picked up the living Ratling on the way in. Once inside, Tenebis tied Elsapeth to a chair, and asked Asclepius if she wouldn’t mind waking her up. Asclepius did so, and the interrogation began.

“Good evening, Elsapeth,” I began, “My apologies for the hostilities. We did try to be reasonable. Tenebis just wanted to make sure you hadn’t hurt her before he gave you your money. I thought that was a perfectly reasonable request to make, but I can see now why that wasn’t possible.”

“Standard procedure,” she said.

“I’m sure. Why us?”

She was silent.

“Did you want the quick, painless death, or the slow, excruciating one?” I asked, calmly.

“You could afford it,” she answered, in response to my previous question.

“It wasn’t personal, then?”

“No.”

“Are you working for someone, or did you come up with this on your own?”

“I serve my lady…”

Without warning, Tenebis raised his curve blade in a fit of rage and brought it down upon her. Tied to the chair, she was defenseless, and the blade sliced her open from shoulder to opposite hip. Her organs spilled out and she slumped in the chair.

“I wasn’t finished with her!” I objected. “What’d you go and do that for?”

Tenebis was breathing heavily as he stepped away from his dead victim. He dropped his sword on the ground and began wringing his hands. I had been focusing on Elsapeth, and hadn’t realised how close he was to snapping until it was too late.

“Sorry,” said Tenebis, not making eye contact. “I lost my temper.”

“Now we’ll never know who her lady is!” I ranted, “Is it Lamashtu? Nualia? Someone else we don’t know about yet? We’ll never know!”

“You didn’t have to kill her,” said Asclepius, in a sad voice. “She posed no threat to you.”

“Well,” I said, “she was going to die. Whether we did it or the courts did is inconsequential. But I wasn’t done asking questions.”

“I’m taking her in to the station,” said Tenebis. He picked up the chair and dragged her out the door behind him. The guards had loosened the perimeter, and passersby were beginning to gather.

“Elsapeth, of the Pack!” declared Tenebis, as he held up her mangled body for all to see. I shook my head silently, and watched him go. As he dragged her along the streets, a bloody trail formed in his wake.

“Now that Tenebis is gone, and unlikely to murder our next prisoner,” I said, “Asclepius, would you mind waking this Ratling up? I doubt he’ll know much, but it’s worth a try.”

“You aren’t going to kill this one too, are you?” asked Asclepius.

“Of course not,” I said.

Asclepius looked around at every other member of the group, waiting for their agreement before finally agreeing to wake our remaining prisoner.

He woke with a start, then shied away from us, as if trying to melt into the chair to which he was tied.

“Where is mother?” he asked.

“She’s outside,” I answered.

“She’s going to jail,” said Ulrick, at the same time.

The Ratling was made suspicious by our quick, simultaneous answers.

“You killed her, didn’t you?”

“Well, _I_ didn’t kill her…”

“What are you going to do to me?”

“That depends on how cooperative you are,” I answered.

“How many of you are there?” I asked.

“That depends,” he said. “How many days have I been out?”

I made a production of pulling out my pocket watch, opening it, checking the time, closing it, and putting it away.

“Oh, about fifteen minutes,” I answered, finally.

“Oh,” he said, a little sheepishly. “Then, forty-seven.”

“You live in the sewers?”

“Yes.”

“And how many in the Pack who aren’t Ratlings?”

“There was mother, her man, her bodyguard, and her puppy. Then us. That was all.”

“Do you know who she worked for?”

“She worked for herself. No one gave orders to Mother. They wouldn’t dare.”

“Tell you what,” piped up Joanos, walking over from the other end of the room. “I’ll make you a deal. You don’t want to mess with us. You’ve seen that already. And this city is under our protection now. If I let you go, you will take all your friends, and you will leave Magnimar, and you will never return.”

“Oh, yes! Definitely! We have a deal! Yes sir!” said the Ratling, enthusiastically.

“And none of you will come after us? No attempts at retaliation?” I asked.

“No sir, we wouldn’t dare. Not without Mother. We’re nothing without mother. I can’t speak for the Ranger man, but none of us Ratling folk are gonna dare get anywhere near you.”

“Very well,” I said to the Ratling, “but to be perfectly clear: when we say leave Magnimar, we don’t mean scatter to the surrounding villages. You are going to get the hell out of Varisia.”

“Yes, sir, of course. Nothing for us in little villages anyway. We belong in big cities with sewers and lots of crowds to slip in and out of. We’ll find somewhere else, but it’ll be far from here.”

“You might try Absalom,” suggested Joanos, “you’d fit right in there.”

“Thank you sir, that sounds like an excellent idea. But… just to be sure… _you_ don’t have any plans to visit Absalom, do you?”

Joanos laughed.

“Perhaps in a hundred years or so…” he said.

“Oh, good,” said the Ratling. “I’ll be long dead by then.”

Joanos untied the Ratling and he went scurrying off.

“Joanos,” I said, “would you send your ferret after him? I want to know where he goes.”

“No,” said Joanos. “I made a deal. I gave my word. I’m not going back on it.”

“Seriously?” I asked, incredulously, “_that’s_ where you draw the line?"


	9. Vengeance

The next morning, as I was leaving my room, I noticed Asclepius walking out of Tenebis’ room. Over breakfast, Domoki was staring daggers at Tenebis. Tenebis ignored him for a while, but when he didn’t let up, Tenebis looked up and met Domoki’s gaze.

“What?” he asked.

“If you hurt Pigeon,” warned Domoki, “I will kill you.”

Tenebis laughed.

“It’s not like that,” said Asclepius, “it’s just that after yesterday, I don’t feel safe sleeping alone anymore.”

Domoki looked into Asclepius’ eyes for the truth, then finished his tea in stony silence.

Ulrick made some excuse about having friends in town that he needed to go see, and excused himself.

“So,” said Steranis, changing the subject, “should we go check out the Foxglove townhouse today?”

“That is what we’re here for,” said Joanos.

“Well, I’d rather be tracking down Tsuto, but…” I began.

“…and Nualia,” cut in Domoki.

“…her too, I suppose,” I admitted.

“Why is it you have such a problem with him and not with her?” asked Domoki.

“I’m a big believer in personal responsibility,” I explained. “She may have given the order, but she wasn’t there. It was Tsuto that killed my people.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll track down your nemesis later,” assured Joanos, condescendingly, “wait till you can scry. Then it’ll be easy.”

“I don’t want to leave it that long,” I admitted. “But since we have a lead on the townhouse, and nothing on Tsuto, we can do the townhouse first.”

◊◊◊

Ulrick proved impossible to track down after his early exit from breakfast, so the remaining six of us showed up at the townhouse without him.

Foxglove’s townhouse was located on spacious grounds in the Marble District. The house was set back from the road, and a low wall separated the property from the road. The gate, however, was unlocked, and we opened and passed through into an elaborate, but poorly kept garden. Fountains sputtered, vines were overgrown, and weeds were pushing their way up through the rock gardens. Whoever maintained this place clearly hadn’t been here in weeks, if not months.

We climbed the steps and knocked on the front door. Moments later, the door opened, and a young servant woman popped her head out.

“What do you want?” she asked, nervously.

“Good day,” I said, stepping forward, “My name is Urhador. We’re special constables from Sandpoint. We regret to be the bearers of bad news. May we come in?”

“I’m not allowed to let anyone in,” she said, “what’s the bad news?”

“I’m afraid that Lord Foxglove is deceased.”

“What?” she said, “That’s not possible! My Lord and Lady are upstairs. I served them breakfast this morning.”

“I’m afraid I saw his body with my own eyes,” I said, now confused, “He is most certainly dead.”

“Well I’m afraid I saw him this morning with my own eyes,” she countered, now getting feisty with me, “and he is most certainly alive! I must be going now.” She began to shut the door in our faces.

“Miss, please, don’t shut the door. This is a very serious matter. If someone has been impersonating Lord Foxglove, we need to figure this out.”

She hesitated, then opened the door a bit further, stepped outside, and closed it behind her.

“I understand that Lord Foxglove splits his time between here and his estate near Sandpoint,” I said. “How long has he been here?”

“About… three months, I think,” she answered, with a note of fear back in her voice again.

“And how long have you worked for Lord Foxglove?” I asked.

“Almost two years now,” she said.

“And have you noticed anything different about him lately?”

“No,” she began, slowly, “but he keeps to himself. I don’t really have a chance to notice anything at all about him, really.”

“And the Lady Iesha; she’s been here the whole time as well?”

“Yes…” she said, hesitantly.

“May we speak with them?”

“They’re not accepting visitors,” she answered hurriedly. “I shouldn’t be talking to you. Good day, gentlemen.”

She rushed back inside and slammed the door in my face.

“Well, that was unexpected,” I said, as we began to walk away.

I turned to Domoki. “Anything?”

“She believed everything she said,” answered Domoki, “but that doesn’t make it true. Also, she was afraid, but… not of us, I don’t think.”

“So, who do we think is the real Foxglove?” asked Steranis.

“I don’t know,” admitted Joanos. I was shocked to hear him admit ignorance of anything. “Urhador, had you ever met Foxglove before Swallowtail?”

“No,” I answered, “had you?”

“Unfortunately not,” he replied. “If the real Foxglove is here, and he’s been here for three months, then the Foxglove we met, both times, was a phony. On the other hand, if the man we met was the real Foxglove, the one here has been successfully impersonating him for three months without anyone noticing. That seems unlikely, simply because I don’t know how the effort required to do that could be worth it to the type of person capable of pulling it off. If the Foxglove that’s here is an impersonator, what’s he after?”

◊◊◊

That evening, I was out on the town, and I took the time to overhear some conversations. People were talking about us. Tenebis hadn’t exactly been subtle about collecting our reward for ridding the town of Elsapeth. But we also weren’t the only gossip that was going around. One story that particularly caught my ear was that bodies had been turning up around town – mutilated. The town guard were apparently denying that any of this had been going on, but there seemed to be one person in every group who claimed to know someone who had seen one. The descriptions varied in their details, but two things were consistent – their faces were peeled off, and a strange rune was carved into their chests – a seven pointed star.

It would seem that that particularly calling card was not unique to the murders in Sandpoint. This was bigger than that.

◊◊◊

The next day, we returned to the Foxglove townhouse with Ulrick, this time. Since he hadn’t been there yesterday, he wouldn’t be recognized, and he could try a different angle. I was rather nervous about this strategy, given his previous failures in diplomacy, but I didn’t have a better one, so I shut up. The rest of us hid behind the hedge, in case back-up was needed, I cast message so he could call for us, and Ulrick walked up to the door.

The servant girl answered, a bit too quickly this time, as if she had been waiting for him.

“What do you want?” she asked.

“Good day, Miss,” he began “I have a message for Lord Foxglove. Is he in?”

“Yes,” she said, “but he’s not seeing visitors. What’s the message? I’ll pass it along.”

“Miss, it’s a very sensitive message, and I was instructed only to give it to Lord Foxglove himself.”

Ulrick was keeping it together so far, and I was proud of him.

“That won’t be possible,” she began. Then she paused, as another voice called out from inside the house. I couldn’t make out what it said, but the servant girl’s demeanor changed immediately when she heard it. A smiled crossed her lips, and she spoke again, far more sweetly this time. “My Lord has invited you in.”

She opened the door all the way and stepped aside for him to enter.

As we lost sight of Ulrick, he began to whisper through the message link.

“I’m in the dining room… It certainly _looks_ like them… They’re offering me a drink…”

“Don’t drink it!” I whispered back. “It’s probably poison!”

“They’ve got me outnumbered three to one,” Ulrick hissed, “if they wanted to kill me, they could do it the old fashioned way.”

“Maybe they want to kill you _quietly_…” mumbled Domoki, “…maybe they wanted to make it look like an _accident_… there’s all _sorts_ of reasons to use poison…”

“Ooh, it’s fancy brandy,” whispered Ulrick, “I’ll be conspicuous if I refuse. I’m drinking it.”

“Really?” asked Joanos, “Isn’t it a little early in the morning for brandy?”

“Says the man who drinks wine with breakfast…” I shot back.

“I will have you know that wine is a perfectly acceptable breakfast drink,” answered Joanos.

“Whatever you gotta say to stay in denial…” I responded.

“Gentlemen!” hissed Asclepius. “We are in a potentially dangerous and time critical situation! Cease your bickering!”

Asclepius was right. I shut up and listened for more updates from Ulrick.

“I’m gonna start asking them tough questions to see if it’s really them…” I heard.

“Be careful…” warned Asclepius.

“Shit… OW!” I heard.

We sprung up from our hiding places and charged the door.

◊◊◊

Ulrick, somehow, had managed not to die in the time it took us to reach him. By the time we got there, the two individuals who had presumably been disguised as Lord and Lady Foxglove, as well their “maid,” had changed shape, and no longer resembled them in the least. In fact, the three creatures before us had no faces, and the smooth skin where their faces ought to have been was populated with formless whorls of… magic? Energy? In any case, the creatures were no match for us, and I understood why they had tried to get Ulrick alone.

When we had dealt with the Foxglove impersonators, we proceeded to search the place.

Behind a secret door in the fireplace, we found our next clue: the deed to the Foxglove manor. The paperwork indicated that the Foxglove family had only financed two thirds of the construction of the manor; the remainder had been paid by a group called the “Brothers of the Seven”. Furthermore, the deed contained an unusual ownership clause: the Manor would belong to the Foxglove family for one hundred years, after which ownership of the house, and the lands “under and around the house for a distance of one mile” would revert to the Brothers of the Seven.

None of us had heard of the Brothers of the Seven before, but what ensued upon finding this was a heated discussion about the need to change our group name. Asclepius had always referred to us as “the Seven” and up until now, no one had contested that, but it was a little too close to the name of this other, presumably more sinister group, for comfort.

Also contained in the paperwork we found was Foxglove’s ledger. Joanos flipped to the back and read some of the last few entries. They were dated more recently than the real Foxglove’s presumed departure from Magnimar.

“Iesha’s trip to Absalom,” Joanos read, “– 200 crowns – the Seven’s Sawmill. And it repeats – the same thing, every Oathday at midnight, for months.”

“Well, I guess we should go there,” I said, “and find out what that’s all about.”

◊◊◊

During dinner that night, Domoki was unusually quiet. Something was eating at him, and after the others had dispersed, I approached him alone to find out what it was.

“What’s on your mind?” I asked.

“I was wrong,” he responded, simply, but with a note of finality.

“About what?” I asked.

“The Foxglove’s maid,” he answered. “She fooled me. I didn’t know anyone could do that.”

“Don’t beat yourself up over it,” I said. “Whatever those things were, they had us all fooled.”

“It’s _my_ job tell you when people are lying,” he persisted. “The fact that the rest of you were fooled is irrelevant.”

“Domoki, it’s your job to shoot things,” I corrected. “Your lie detection skills are a nice bonus, but nobody expects them to be perfect. Whatever those faceless things were, they clearly didn’t have the same tells as humanoids do. You couldn’t have been expected to know.”

“I can expect a great deal of myself,” he said. “Do not try to stop me.”

“Very well,” I said. “You messed up. There’s no point in moping about it. You’ll learn from this, and you’ll do better next time. Keep your head up.”

Domoki smiled, and I left him to his thoughts.

◊◊◊

The next day, disguised as merchants, we showed up at the Seven’s Sawmill to scout out the location. We planned to show up at the next meet, Oathday at midnight, in Iesha’s place, but we wanted to get the layout of the building first.

The front door was open, and men were working inside. By all accounts, it looked like a legitimate business. I walked up to the foreman and made conversation to distract him, giving the others cover to look around. Domoki stayed with me to act as lie detector. I pretended to be interested in buying a large quantity of lumber to build a manor. Talking about design choices, and mentioning a few other manors in the area, I casually let it drop that Foxglove Manor had burned down. I hoped

was paying attention, for this was where I hoped he would catch any concealed reaction at the mention of Foxglove Manor. When it came time for us to make our exit, I started to ask about increasingly rare types of wood, until I hit upon one that they didn’t have. Then I hemmed and hawed significantly, said I’d have to look around, and excused myself.

We regrouped outside the Sawmill.

“Urhador, when you mentioned Foxglove manor,” said Asclepius, “one of the labourers in the corner suddenly looked over and took interest in your conversation. I think he knows something.”

“Interesting,” I said, “Domoki, did you get anything from the foreman?”

“I did not sense any deception coming from him,” answered Domoki.

“Then I guess Asclepius’ man is our guy, at least until proven otherwise,” said Joanos. “I think we should wait for him to leave, and follow him to see where he goes.”

We found a nearby set of benches from which we could relatively unobtrusively watch the comings and goings of the mill.

Three hours passed, and as evening dawned, Asclepius elbowed Tenebis in the side and pointed out a man leaving the mill.

“That’s him,” she whispered. “Don’t move yet. He’ll see us.”

We waited until he had passed us, then Joanos cast message, turned himself invisible, and set off after him. The rest of us followed at an inconspicuous distance, receiving whispered directions through the link. We ended up at an unassuming house in a middle class neighbourhood.

“So what do we do now?” I asked. “Do you want me to try to talk to him?”

“No,” said Joanos. “We have nothing to go on. We know they’re up to something, but we have no idea what. We need to sleuth around. Get some evidence. I say we come back at night. Pick the locks. Sneak in and look around.”

“Will evidence obtained that way be admissible in court?” asked Domoki.

“Are you kidding?” I asked, “Don’t be so naïve. The Justices here don’t care _how _evidence was obtained. Our bigger concern is if they’ve already _bought out_ the Justices. We’ll just have to hope that’s not the case.”

◊◊◊

As midnight neared, we returned to the house once again. Tenebis went around to the back trying to peer in windows. Joanos quietly set about picking the lock. The rest of us held back and watched. We were just there in case a fight broke out and backup was required.

Joanos’ work was slow and methodical, and he spent several minutes hunched over the lock before a soft click was finally heard, and Joanos straightened out, looking pleased with himself.

But before he moved again, the door swung open of its own accord. The man we had been following stood in the doorway holding a hooded lantern.

“Not quiet enough, I’m afraid,” he said. “May I help you?”

Joanos was lost for words. As the seconds passed in uncomfortable silence, I thought desperately of a way to salvage the situation. None came to mind. But someone had to say something, so I stepped forward and gave it my best shot.

“So sorry to have picked your lock, sir,” I began. “Lady Foxglove sent us. I was hoping we could speak in private…” I continued, pausing to look around suspiciously, “…away from prying eyes?”

He laughed.

“You’re not Iesha’s people. You’re those cunts who killed Elsapeth and paraded her body right through the town square! Don’t think I don’t know who you are, _Urhador!_”

I almost turned around to shoot a nasty look at Tenebis, but then remembered he was on the other side of the building. He had just _had _to make us the most conspicuous visitors in town.

“Word travels fast,” I admitted. “It would seem, then, that you know a great deal about us, while we know very little about you. That puts us at a disadvantage. I don’t _like_ being at a disadvantage,” I said, with my hand on the sheath of my dagger to illustrate the nature of my threat.

He laughed again.

“Are you one of the Brothers of the Seven?” I demanded, ignoring his laughter.

“Oh, that I should be so lucky…” he said.

“He’s looking pretty lucky to me…” whispered Asclepius’ voice in my ear.

“What’s the nature of your dealings with the Foxgloves?” I pressed.

“Urhador,” he answered sweetly, “you ask too many questions. If you are not out of my sight by the time I count to three, I am calling for the city guard. You’ll be surprised at how quickly they respond… They’re just around the corner. You see, the Brothers bought them off long ago… One…”

Joanos drew his sword.

“…two…”

“If you scream, I will slit your throat,” said Joanos.

The man took a break from counting to size us up. There were six of us, as far as he knew, and only one of him. He slammed the door in our faces, and I heard footsteps as he ran through his house toward the back. A horn sounded, its mournful note echoing up through the chimney of the house and projecting out across the sky.

“Tenebis,” I whispered through the link, “He’s trying to get away. If you can stop him without killing him, do it.”

◊◊◊

Tenebis slung the unconscious suspect over his shoulder, and we got out of there fast. We had no intentions of waiting around for the city guard to show up, even if there might be evidence in the house. We’d have to find our evidence elsewhere.

“So – where shall we go with this unconscious body?” I asked, to no one in particular.

“Well, we can’t take him back to the inn,” said Steranis.

“That would be suspicious,” pointed out Ulrick, satisfying his knack for stating the obvious.

“Let’s go to the mill,” said Joanos. “They had an unused basement where we can question him, and we might find evidence there. It should be empty at this time of night, and if it’s not, that’s worth investigating.”

We brought him to the basement of the mill. The door was locked, but this time, when Joanos picked the lock, no one rudely interrupted him by opening the door before he finished. The undermill was full of waterwheels, ropes, pulleys, and other machinery that powered the rest of the mill. There were no chairs here to tie the prisoner to, so Tenebis simply tied his wrists and ankles together and let him fall to the floor.

When Asclepius woke him up, he came to slowly, and looked around, assessing his surroundings before focusing on any of us.

“Where are the other six Brothers?” I asked.

“You want to meet the brothers?” he asked, in a mocking tone, “THEY’RE HERE!”

I nearly jumped at his sudden yelling.

“Well, that was easy,” I said. “Let’s go find them.”

Leaving our prisoner bound and helpless in the basement, we set off to find the rest of them. The undermill was not connected to the other floors on the inside, so we left the mill and paused to strategize before re-entering on the ground floor. Ulrick wanted to burn the whole place down and force the brothers to come out and fight us on our own terms, but Joanos was quick to point out that that would destroy any evidence to be found inside.

Our huddle was interrupted when a single arrow whizzed out of the top floor window and landed at my feet. Judging by its trajectory, it had not been intended to hit us; a warning shot, perhaps. But when I looked more closely, I saw that speared on the head of the arrow was a small slip of paper; someone had sent us a message.

I leaned down and retrieved the paper from the arrow. The message was short and to the point:

_Come and get me. – T_

Rage seethed up inside me as I recognised the handwriting of my nemesis.

“Shit…” I said, “I’m going in.”

Obviously, it was a trap, but try as I might, I could not pass up an opportunity to recapture Tsuto.

Fortunately for me, my allies were not willing to let me charge into a trap alone, so as I entered the mill, I felt the comforting presence of my six allies at my back.

Though all the machinery was disconnected for the night, sawdust still hung thick in the air, and every step stirred up more of it. It would not be safe to use fire in here. That must have been why Tsuto picked it. It was where I would be weakest.

Asclepius cast fire resistance on us all, just in case, as we began to make our way up the stairs. As we slowly ascended, we found the first, second, and third floors all to be empty. They were waiting for us at the top.

As we neared the top of the stairs, Tenebis was hit by the first arrow. A dozen hooded cultists stood clustered at the top of the stairs, most of them wielding shortbows. The three in front were armed with swords. Tenebis and the tiger ran the rest of the way up and engaged them. They tried forcing us to fight on the stairs, but the few in front were no match for us, and they slowly began to yield level ground. Meanwhile, arrows, bullets, and magic missiles flew as we tried to pick off the archers in back. Though they outnumbered us two to one, most of them seemed inexperienced, and the tide of the battle slowly began to turn in our favour. When the first few had fallen, I noticed another quietly slip away from the group. He was withdrawing, and leaving his mooks to fight for him.

His face was still covered by the hood, so the only parts of him showing were his hands. He bore the long slender fingers of an Elf, and his fingernails were filed to a point in the Elven style. But he was too short for an Elf, his feet too large.

Tsuto was a half-elf, I knew. In my mind, I could not be positive, but in my gut, I was certain that this was him. Ignoring the others, I focused my magic missiles on my nemesis as he retreated. They weren’t enough. He was getting away. I jumped across the void in the winding staircase and caught the banister on the other side. Scrambling over, I went after him. Focusing my fire into a narrow beam to lessen the risk, I let loose. Flames seared toward him, and with an uncanny dodge, he lunged away, escaping the heat. Sparks littered the air, as particles of saw dust burnt up. Fortunately, it did not spread. Tsuto drew a potion, reached up under his hood, and disappeared.

A door opened, and an Elf stepped out, wearing a gruesome mask that appeared to be made of human skin. Tenebis came up behind me, having finished with the expendables guarding the staircase, and attacked a seemingly empty spot. His sword met with resistance. Somehow, he had found Tsuto, even while invisible. I cast glitterdust, covering the whole area in cool sparks, and outlining the figure of the invisible man.

The tiger pounced on the Elf. Knocked off balance, the Elf staggered back into the room from whence he’d come and closed the door. There was a loud thump as the bar fell into place, locking us out.

An arrow whizzed past Tenebis and embedded itself in Tsuto’s side. With one final blow, Tenebis knocked Tsuto to the ground.

Joanos cast a spell on the door, and it swung open. The Elf was trying to escape up a ladder on to the roof. He didn’t make it, but I paid no attention. My nemesis was before me on the ground, and though he was still invisible, that would wear off soon. I stood and waited.

Less than a minute later, the hooded figure on the ground faded back into view. I bent down and pulled off his hood. I was right. It was Tsuto.

Asclepius walked up behind me, knelt beside him, and checked his pulse. She looked up and met my angry gaze levelly.

“He is stable now,” she said. “If I come back and he’s dead, that’s murder. And I will report you.”

I stared back.

“Understood,” I said, simply.

She left to check on the Elf. Tenebis pulled the mask off of his face. There was silence for a moment as everyone stared. I pulled my eyes away from Tsuto for just a moment to see what all the fuss was about. Staring back at me were the cold, empty eyes of Justice Ironbriar.

“Domoki,” I said, “there is something wrong with that Justice.”

Asclepius checked his pulse and announced that he was dead.

“Great,” said Joanos, “now we’ve killed a Justice. There’d better be some pretty fucking damning evidence in here, or we are thoroughly screwed.” He looked up and scanned the room. More human skin masks hung from the walls of this room, which seemed to be an office of some sort. “Oh, great. Flayed people masks. Creepifying, but not technically illegal unless we can prove he was the one who killed those people.”

The others fanned out and began to search the place. Steranis climbed the ladder to the roof, where he found a rookery, and spent some time talking to a raven. As for me, I stood watch over my nemesis. He had gotten away from me once, and I swore to myself that this time, I would not let him out of my sight until he was dead. I pulled out a rope and tied him up at the wrists and ankles, in case he should wake up. As the others filtered away, I found myself nearly alone with Tsuto. Only Joanos remained on the fourth floor with me, but he was occupied with inspecting the mask, and paid no attention to me. I stared at Tsuto. As I stood and stared at the face of my helpless nemesis, other faces flitted through my mind. I went through them, one by one, speaking their names: the men that Tsuto had killed at the glassworks. Some of their faces were already beginning to slip away from memory, the details blurring as I tried to recall them. Others I had known better, and their faces stood clearly in my mind’s eye, begging to be avenged. I considered drawing my dagger and slitting his throat right there and then, but decided against it. He should die by fire, and now that the immediate danger had passed, there was no justification for using fire inside the mill. It would have to wait.

The others slowly trickled back upstairs and shared their findings. There was nothing in the rest of the building, but as I’d been musing over how to kill Tsuto, Joanos had found quite a lot right where we were. The most promising lead was a book, written in cipher, which Joanos assured us he could crack, given enough time. The cipher was a combination of characters from the Elven, Draconic, and Infernal languages, he informed us. We weren’t sure what it said, but the cipher was complicated enough that it seemed a safe bet that it was concealing something big.

Steranis had been talking to the ravens caged on the roof, and piecing together the ravens limited knowledge with his own, he had managed to get some good information out of them. They were trained to fly to the shadow clock, an abandoned clock tower just outside of town, and deliver messages to a woman that Steranis was pretty sure was a lamia – a creature with top half of a woman and the body of a snake.

We all agreed that we couldn’t hide the body of a Justice for long, so we agreed to head straight to the Pediment building and turn ourselves in. With any luck, the ciphered book would provide the evidence we needed to indict Justice Ironbriar and clear our names.

Tenebis slung Ironbriar over his shoulder and started down the stairs. I struggled to pick up Tsuto and do the same. Physical strength, however, was something I lacked, and I wasn’t able to sling him over my shoulder like I’d have wanted. Domoki offered to carry him for me, and I had no doubt that he could, but that would interfere with my plan. I refused his help, and ended up half carrying, half dragging Tsuto down the stairs.

I hung back a bit as we left the mill. Dragging a body behind me provided an excellent excuse for walking a little slower than the others.

When the dust had cleared from the air, and a wind had picked up a little, it was time; I threw Tsuto to the ground beside me and poured out fire onto his body. Though he was unconscious, his reflexes activated with the sudden heat, and his body began to twitch as it burned up. I knew I should look away, but I didn’t, I couldn’t… I didn’t want to. His skin burned up first, shrivelling away to expose muscle and tendon and bone, and still he twitched. The flesh blackened and began giving way to ash, and finally his body convulsed one last time and was still. A shrewd smile spread across my lips. By the time the fire stopped flowing from my fingers, there was nothing left before me but a pile of ash.

I looked up to the see others surrounding me and looking on in horror. Asclepius was directly in front of me, and her eyes burned with an anger I had not yet seen in her.

“Do what your conscience requires of you;” I said. “I did what I had to do.”

◊◊◊

On the way to the Pediment building, I rehearsed my defence in my head. I figured I had a shot at a commuted sentence if I could convince a Justice that I’d do more good to the city free than imprisoned or dead.

_Tsuto killed nine of my closest friends_, I would say. _I discovered their bodies personally and there was no doubt as to his guilt. The first time that we captured him, I tried to do things right. I turned him in, and I trusted that the Justice system would give me my justice. But it did not. Tsuto escaped from custody on the way to his trial. And when I found him again, he was with none other than one of your own Justices, in the middle of a murder cult that wore people’s faces as masks. I could not trust the Justice system again. So I had my justice my own way. Now, if you wish to indict me for killing my people’s murderer without due process, go ahead. But I urge you to consider that I will do far more good out in the city tracking down the rest of these criminals than I will in a cell, or six feet underground._

When we arrived at the Pediment building, we were escorted back to Justice Vernelli’s office. Joanos told our tale, and presented his evidence, promising that if given the time, he could crack the code in the book. They talked back and forth for some time, and I stopped listening halfway in. I think a Zone of Truth was cast, at some point, to keep Joanos from lying about the evidence. Eventually we were dismissed, though Justice Vernelli warned us not to leave the city until this was resolved. As the others filed out, Asclepius grabbed onto my arm and held me back, preventing me from leaving. Only me, Asclepius, and the Justice remained in the office.

“Urhador has brought the murderer Tsuto to justice,” said Asclepius. I was surprised at her wording, for it sounded far less accusatory than I had expected. But the Justice caught on to her shade of meaning, and turned to me.

“I take that to mean, then, that he did not die in battle?” she asked.

Looking up and meeting her gaze levelly, I answered:

“No, ma’am. I executed him.”

Justice Vernelli sighed.

“I’m going to have to request that you not do that again,” she said.

“I have no plans to,” I said, quite honestly.

“If you did, we might even have to impose some sort of fine,” she said.

Confused at the leniency of the proposed punishment, I simply nodded.

“Dismissed,” she said.

I walked out silently, puzzling over the mere slap on the wrist that I had received. I had expected far worse, and I hadn’t even needed to use my defence. As I walked back to the inn, I reflected that never before had I been so pleased with the inherent corruption in Magnimar’s Justice system. I was still a little pissed off at Asclepius though. She couldn’t have known it would go that well, and yet there she was, the one who claimed to be trying to pull the group together, turning me in to the cops. I walked up alongside her to have a little chat.

“That’s a nice double standard you’ve got there, Asclepius,” I said.

She did not rise to the bait, so I continued.

“Tenebis slices Elsapeth in half while she’s tied to a chair, and you end up in his bed the next night. I kill the murderer of my closest friends, and you turn me in to the cops. What gives?”

“Where I sleep is none of your concern,” she said calmly.

“No, it’s not. You know very well I don’t give a rat’s ass who you sleep with. That’s not the point. You wanted us to be a team, Asclepius. You’re telling us all to get along, that we have some higher purpose we have to pull together for, and here you go turning me in to Justice Vernelli.”

Asclepius had nothing to say to that.

◊◊◊

It was not until we got back to the inn that I was hit with the realization of what I had just done. I had killed a man in cold blood, and I had enjoyed it. As much as I believed that his death was necessary, I was disturbed by what it said about me that I had derived pleasure from the act.

I sat down at the table with the others without a word.

Joanos was already at work decoding the book, papers strewn about him, and a bottle of wine at hand. But as he worked, he became more and more focused on the book, and seemed to be reaching for the bottle less and less. It seemed Joanos had finally found something to do that was more interesting than wine.

“Are you gonna finish that?” I asked, nodding at his half empty bottle.

“No, go ahead,” he said, not even looking up.

Whatever Joanos had found in the text must be _very_ intriguing.

I reached across the table and took the half-empty bottle from him. I downed it in one go.

The wine muddled my thoughts and took the edge off of the guilt and shame that was rushing into my mind. I went up to the bar for another bottle.

◊◊◊

Domoki shook me awake and thrust a flask of something into my hand.

“Drink this,” he said, “it’ll clear your head.”

“I don’ wanna clear my head…” I said, “I got drunk for a reason.”

“We’re going to the clock tower to find whomever Ironbriar was corresponding with,” he said, “we need you sober.”

“My magic is gone,” I said “I used it all killin traitor boy. Won’ get it back ‘till tomorrow.”

“Just drink the fucking antitoxin,” cut in Tenebis, “We don’t have time for this.”

Not caring to argue, I drank the anti-toxin and followed along.

“I don’t mean to be a bother,” I said, “but why are we going _now?_”

“Because if we don’t go now, she’ll move, and we might never find her back,” answered Joanos.

“Who?”

“Xanesha. The lamia.”

“Oh,” I said, “why do we need her again?”

“Because she’s been directing Ironbriar on whom to kill.”

“Oh. So we’re going to go kill the snake lady before she orders any more murders?”

“Yes,” he said.

“Sounds like a blast.”

I noted that Joanos was remarkably patient in answering my drunken questions, and I supposed it was because he had some amount of empathy for my condition.

By the time we arrived at the shadow clock, my head had cleared. The abandoned clock tower carried a sense of foreboding about it. It soared to an improbable height of almost two hundred feet, all the while leaning over at a precarious angle. How it did not topple over entirely was beyond me.

Inside the tower, a rickety wooden stairwell coiled around the inside wall of the structure. We spaced ourselves out as we climbed it to avoid breaking through the half rotten planks. On the way up, we encountered the guardians of the tower: a flesh golem and four faceless stalkers; they attacked us, and suffered the consequences. Somebody at the top tried dropping the bells on us, but that did not stop us either. As we neared the top of the tower, the interior staircase ended and we were forced to go outside to continue. The stairs here looked even less sturdy than those inside, and I doubted they could even support Domoki, let alone more than one of us at a time. Tenebis headed up first, and the rest of us waited until he reached the top to follow, one at a time; it was a risky strategy, as none of us could help him if he got attacked, but the alternative seemed to be to plummet over a hundred feet to the ground, so we hadn’t much choice.

When Tenebis reached the top, I heard his voice whisper in my ear “she’s got an obscuring mist up.” I had a single spell left in me, and it would not be enough fire to clear out the room, but nonetheless, I followed behind, as it seemed no one else could do any better.

As I reached the top of the stairs, I heard the clang of metal on metal. I approached the sound, and using the last of my fire, I burned the mist out of the area around the combatants. It was the lamia. As Tenebis faced off against her, the rest of the group came up the stairs, one by one, and joined the fight.

I felt the familiar clenching feeling in my chest as my health drained from me, and I realized there was someone else in the mist, channeling energy. The tactic was familiar: Nualia. My own magic gone, I pulled out a wand of magic missile and advanced into the mist, firing blindly. Joanos and the tiger struck out into the mist as well, and it was the tiger that found her. Following the sounds of the tiger’s claws glancing off armour, I found Nualia backed into a corner. She had chosen that position so nobody could get behind her, and I was of a mind to spoil that for her. As long as the attacks came from in front, she was parrying them effectively. I advanced until I was sure she could see me. I plastered a smug smile onto my face, and in honeyed voice, I taunted her:

“Nualia,” I said, punctuating my sentence with a magic missile to the chest, “I killed your boyfriend.”

I took a step back, luring her into coming after me.

She took the bait, stepped forward and swung at me. A deep gash opened up in my left side. Then the same mocking smile appeared on her face.

“Oh wait…” she said, “I don’t have a boyfriend. Only minions.”

“That’s ok,” I said, my voice wavering a bit from the pain, “I just said that so he could get behind you.”

She began to turn her head to look behind her, but it was too late. The tiger pounced, and Joanos took my place in front of her as I limped away towards Asclepius for healing.

◊◊◊

When the fog cleared, Tenebis, Ulrick, and Xanesha were nowhere to be seen.

“Tenebis, Ulrick,” whispered Asclepius through the message link, “where are you? Are you injured?”

“I’m on the roof,” whispered back Tenebis, “she tried to get away.”

“Did it work?” I asked.

“Almost,” he replied.

“Is Ulrick with you?” asked Steranis.

“No,” answered Tenebis.

“He fled that way,” said Domoki, pointing back down the way we came. “I think Xanesha got him with some sort of fear effect.”

Tenebis came down the ladder from the roof with the Xanesha’s body slung over one shoulder. Dumping her on the ground, he retrieved a couple scrolls that he had tucked under his belt and handed over to Joanos.

“Found these in her nest,” he said, simply.

Joanos read the first scroll aloud.

“Sihedron Sacrifices: Catalena Stirbeanu; Tarch Mortwell; Lener Hask; Gedwin Tabe; Rozali Costu; Lennor Voinescu; Banny Harker…”

His voice trailed off as the list continued. His eyes continued to scan the names, until they reached the bottom of the scroll and stopped abruptly. He read the last name aloud:

“…Lord Mayor Haldmeer Grobaras.”

He passed the scroll around. The first third or so of the names were crossed off, and I recognised the names of the Sandpoint victims among them. The rest of the names were unfamiliar to me.

“We’re going to have to figure out what all of these targets have in common…” said Steranis.

“…and inform the Lord Mayor that he was being targeted by a murder cult,” added Tenebis.

Meanwhile, Joanos had unrolled the second scroll, and was reading it quietly. When the rest of us had finished our yammering, he read it aloud as well:

_Dearest sister,_

_I wish you’d come and join me. If you keep doing things your way, you’re bound to be discovered. Carving runes into dead bodies is hardly discrete. My method is so much more elegant than yours. Business on the Paradise is booming, and I have almost 200 marked already. There would be a place for you here. _

_Lucretia_

◊◊◊

On the way back to the inn, I was silent, and Domoki kept trying to strike up a conversation.

“Well, that went well, I thought.”

“Sure.”

“Didn’t expect to see Nualia there.”

“Wasn’t terribly surprised.”

“It’s a good thing we got there before she got any further down her list.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Did you make anything of the letter from her sister?”

“Not really.”

“What do you suppose the Paradise is?”

“Dunno.”

“Sounds like the name of a ship, maybe.”

“Maybe.”

“Are you happy that Nualia’s dead?”

“Relieved, I suppose. Wouldn’t say happy.”

Finally, Domoki gave up and stopped questioning me.

We ran into Ulrick on the way back to the inn, and he seemed rather sheepish, but we all knew what it felt like to be hit by a magical fear effect, so we didn’t give him too much of a hard time.

When we arrived back at the inn, it was early morning, but since we hadn’t slept all night, I went straight to bed. I had expected to sleep easier once I had disposed of my nemesis, but sleep did not come. I lay awake pondering my humanity, and eventually admitted to myself that I needed to talk to someone. I dragged myself out of bed and into the hallway, and knocked on Domoki’s door.

“Come in,” he called out, sounding remarkably awake.

I entered to find Domoki sitting cross legged on the floor, his eyes closed, his hands on his knees. He must have been meditating. I hadn’t actually figured out what I was going to say when I got in here, so I simply said the first thing that came to mind.

“Domoki, what kind of a monster am I?”

“How do you mean?” he asked, calmly.

I was relieved to find that he did not jump straight into reassurances that I was not a monster; he would hear me out.

“Back at the sawmill, I... I actually _enjoyed_ killing Tsuto. He was already unconscious when I set him on fire, but that didn't stop his muscle reflexes from reacting to the pain. As he lay there writhing on the ground, I found I couldn't... I didn't _want_ to look away. I took some sort of... perverse pleasure from his pain. What am I becoming, Domoki? How do I stop it? What if it's already too late?"

He was silent for a while, as he pondered my questions. Domoki was never quick to speak, I suppose because it took time to think of something wise to say.

“Urhador, I am relieved to hear of your repentance for murder in cold blood. I understand your hatred for a man who almost burned you in the fires of your glassworks and your loyalty to Ameiko. However, as it was done, I was not in agreement. Nualia died in combat trying to kill us, not defeated and helpless. Your recognition of this in yourself is redeemable. How you proceed from here is up to you and not something I can guide you on. When we return to Sandpoint I suggest talking to Father Zantus and Ameiko. You fight in their honour, in them will be your forgiveness.”

“First of all, I did not hate him because he tried to kill me, or even because he kidnapped Ameiko. He killed nine of my closest friends, Domoki. It seems like a lot of people are missing that. Secondly, I do _not_ fight for Father Zantus. However… I will tell Ameiko the truth when we get back to Sandpoint. I don't expect her forgiveness, but she deserves to know. Besides, I don't think I could lie to her even if I tried.”

“Will you tell Father Zantus what happened?” Domoki persisted.

“I don’t see the point of that, frankly. He would just give me some spiel about the Gods’ forgiveness, and I’m not much for the Gods.”

“It is not about the Gods’ forgiveness,” he said, admonishingly, “He deserves a chance to put the whole situation of the church to rest considering Nualia was to blame for the original fire. He requires that peace for the church and town as a whole. This is about an end the catastrophe that marks your town's history. For the records, and so that Father Zantus can comfort the townsfolk and put their minds to rest.”

“I’m sure Joanos will send him a copy of his report,” I argued. “That should be sufficient. I am not about to give that insufferable prick a chance to try to impose a penance on me.”

“And would that suffering not be on par with the pleasure that you took in his death?”

“Oh, low blow, Domoki,” I complained, “now _you’re_ imposing penances on me?”

“No. I show you what you refuse to see since you asked. It's up to you to choose to do or not do. I judge you not on this choice.”

He was right, of course. I came to him for advice, and it was hardly fair of me to complain just because I didn’t like the advice he had to give.

“...You're right,” I admitted. “Thank you, my friend. I'll think about it.” I got up to leave.

“May the water clear your pores and the moss shade you in heat my friend,” he said. It sounded like a very rock-like thing to say.

“Thanks, Domoki. You’re my rock,” I joked.

Domoki chuckled at the pun as I left to go to my room and try once again to find sleep.


	10. Waiting

In the morning, I set to work writing a letter to Ameiko. I spent quite some time deciding exactly how much I should tell her. While it would be cathartic to tell her everything, and simply pour out my feelings on the matter, that would be insensitive. Despite everything he had done, Tsuto was her brother, and telling her that I had executed him, and furthermore, than I had enjoyed it, would ruin her. I decided it would be best to make it sound like he had died in battle. She would be able to live with that. Unfortunately for me, if she never found out what an awful thing I had done, she wouldn’t ever be able to forgive me for it, but that was my burden to bear, not hers.

I stopped downstairs for an update from Joanos on what he had gotten so far from Ironbriar’s journal, and then I began to write,

_Dear Ameiko,_

_True to my promise, I have found and apprehended your brother. With great sadness, I must inform you that I found it necessary to kill him._

_Tsuto and Nualia’s guard escort never arrived in Magnimar. I had resolved to get my hands on the means to scry his location, but while our group was pursuing other leads (related to the series of Sandpoint murders you undoubtedly heard about), Tsuto managed to find me._

_He had joined the Skinsaw cult, and was involved in the murders of a number of individuals here in Magnimar, following the same pattern as the Sandpoint murders. Tsuto was assisted by a corrupt Justice, which is, I imagine, how he and Nualia managed to dispose of their escort. _

_In the course of infiltrating the cult’s base of operations, we were attacked. Tsuto and the corrupt Justice were killed, and evidence of the cult’s criminal activities is currently under review._

_I am very sorry for your loss, and I hope that my letter will give you some closure on this matter. I know that Tsuto meant a lot to you, and I hope you will remember him the way he was before he disappeared, and not as what he became. He was not dealt a fair starting hand in life, and while that does not absolve him of his crimes, it goes a ways toward explaining them._

_I do not expect your forgiveness for having killed him, but I thought you should hear it from me. Feel free to get rid of my stuff if you don’t want me living at the Rusty Dragon anymore. There is nothing of value in there._

_With Regrets,  
Urhador_

As I wrote the letter, it occurred to me that she might like to have his remains returned to her. After finishing the letter, I got up and headed back to the mill to see if anything was still there. To my relief, the wind had been still in the day that had passed, and a small quantity of ashes was still present. I scooped it up into an empty potion bottle as best I could, resisting the urge to spit in them. As much as I despised him, he had meant something to Ameiko, and that alone made him worthy of a modicum of my respect.

I sent the letter through Balthazar’s channels, and held on to the ashes to give to her later. I did not trust Balthazar’s couriers quite that much.

◊◊◊

When I returned to the Blue Bunyip, I found Joanos still sitting at a table in the common area, decoding the journal. Dark rings were beginning to form under his eyes, and he was drinking water rather than wine, for once.

“Have you slept at all since you found that thing?” I asked.

“No.”

Curious, I walked around behind him to get a look at what was so intriguing as to cause Joanos to deprive himself of both sleep and alcohol. What I saw on the page had no meaning to me. There were Elvish characters in the cipher, which I recognised, and others which I didn’t (he had said they were Infernal and Draconic, earlier), but some of them did seem – familiar, a way. As if I had seen them before, but I didn’t remember their meaning.

“Piss off, Dragon boy!” said Joanos, and I realized I’d been staring over his shoulder for what must have been a rather irritating amount of time.

Remembering that there was another little mystery I had to solve, I headed off to the University. There was a library there, where perhaps I would find my answers.

Last week, Joanos had insulted me in my head language. That meant one of two things: either it was a real language, which I had learned as a child, but forgotten having learned; or Joanos could read minds. Since the former option was far less disturbing, I was pursuing it first; and if it was a real language, someone at the University might speak it.

I paid the entrance fee to the library and wandered in. I asked a clerk to point me toward the linguistics section, and once there, I sought out the most scholarly looking individual I could find. I settled on a dwarf sitting behind a simple desk in a corner, sorting through a pile of old tomes. A large pair of spectacles adorned his face, and his long, braided beard reached down to his knees. He wore the robes of a senior professor.

Approaching him, I found myself speaking aloud in the language of my thoughts.

“Good afternoon, Professor. I’m sorry to disturb you.”

The language sounded almost foreign to me when spoken aloud, but I made myself speak it nonetheless.

To my surprise, the Dwarf looked unperturbed.

“Looking for books about Dragons, are we?” he asked, without looking up. “Fourth floor, aisle thirty-seven, section C.” His accent was a little off, or perhaps mine was, but we were undoubtedly speaking the same language.

I wasn’t entirely sure how he surmised that I must be looking for books about Dragons, for my scales were covered up, and I had no other visible indications of my Draconic heritage. Besides, he hadn’t even looked at me. But, having nothing better to do than follow his advice, I climbed the grand staircase to the fourth floor and sought out aisle thirty seven. Once there, I found section C and pulled out a tome at random. Opening it, I began to read.

The book was a creation story, involving the Dragon Gods Apsu, Tiamat, and Dahak. The story was captivating, and it was not until the second page that I fully realized what language it was written in. I was reading a tale written in my head language. It was a real language then, presumably Draconic. I stopped reading and focused on the individual characters on the page. I could not tell you what they were called, and indeed looking at one at a time, I could not tell you what they meant, but when my eyes skimmed over a whole line of them, there I was, reading them.

I picked out another book, and another, and another. They were all written in this language. How could I speak, let alone read, Draconic? As far I knew, no one in my childhood had spoken it, and I certainly didn’t remember learning it since.

Excited, I headed back downstairs to speak to the Dwarf again.

“How is it possible,” I asked, forgetting to properly greet him, or introduce myself, “that I can speak Draconic? I never learned it.”

“When one has the blood of Dragons, sir, it is not difficult,” he said, sounding bored and a little exasperated with me. “Dragons have genetic memory.”

“How do you know I have the blood of Dragons?”

“Your accent, sir,” he answered, briefly looking up to pull another book out of his stack. “No one else can properly get that ‘ghagh’ sound.”

He was right. He didn’t get that ‘ghagh’ sound right, though it was close enough that I knew what he meant.

Pleased to have my answers, I thanked him, headed back upstairs, and buried myself in the Draconic section of the library.

◊◊◊

After a few days in the library, educating myself on Draconic lore, I was beginning to get antsy. Joanos was still decoding the journal, which was slow work, so we couldn’t leave town yet. I decided to head down to the archery range. With any luck, I would find Domoki there, and perhaps he could teach me a thing or two to keep me busy.

Domoki was indeed there. He had his back to me, so he didn’t see me right away. He was trying to bounce arrows off a wall and then hit a target off to his right. It wasn’t going very well, but I knew that glancing arrows was an exceptionally difficult thing to do. If he ever mastered it, he would be able to shoot around corners. I watched and waited until he stopped to collect his arrows, then called out a greeting.

“Oh, hello Urhador,” he said. “What is the fire man doing at the archery range? Should I be worried about arson?” he teased.

“Not _yet_,” I said, playing along, “you haven’t done anything to piss me off.”

“Oh, well, in that case, what _are_ you doing at the archery range?”

I shrugged.

“I was bored. And we’re not allowed to leave town. Thought maybe you could teach me how to shoot.”

“I suppose, if it will keep you away from arson for a while, I could manage that.”

Domoki walked over to the wall and picked out a bow for me. He strung it, handed it over, and pointed to a target.

I tried a few shots, missing badly each time.

Domoki began adjusting my technique: my stance, my elbow position, my shoulders; all were somehow wrong. He did not speak, but simply kicked my feet around, raised my elbow, pushed my shoulders down, as if I were some kind of marionette. When Domoki was finally happy with how I was standing, he had me shoot again. I still missed the target entirely, but I was off by a little less this time.

“How do I aim?” I asked.

“Don’t think. Just do. You need to find your zen,” he said simply.

I took a few deep breaths and tried a few more shots, trying not to think about it too much. I simply looked where I wanted the arrows to go, and hoped they would go there. It didn’t work.

“I don’t think I _have_ a ‘zen’,” I complained.

“Nonsense,” said Domoki, “everyone has a zen.”

To my great consternation, he then took away the bow and informed me that he would be teaching me to meditate first. Only once I had found my ‘zen,’ whatever that was, would I be allowed to shoot again.

◊◊◊

As the days wore on, I settled into a routine of sorts. I spent my mornings in the library, reading about Dragons and magic and history and lore. I spent my afternoons at the archery range, where I was somehow supposed to be learning to shoot by sitting on the floor with my eyes closed and emptying my mind of thoughts. I spent my evenings circulating though taverns, pubs, and bars, listening to the local gossip. I was specifically keeping my ears open for mentions of a woman named Lucretia and a ship (or indeed anything) named _the Paradise_. Those seemed to be our only leads on where to go next (once we were finally allowed to leave this town), but infuriatingly, I was consistently coming up empty on that. Fortunately, the stream of murders that I’d heard about seemed to have stopped, for while people were still talking about them, there didn’t seem to be any new cases. People were also, of course, talking about _us_, and from time to time I would be recognised as one of the group of adventurers who had rid the town of the Pack and killed Justice Ironbriar. Nobody really knew _why_ we had killed Justice Ironbriar, but they didn’t seem to have any issue with it. I supposed he must have been almost universally despised. I was happy to hear that the Pack seemed to have packed up and left, excusing the pun. I still was not _quite_ confident enough in their departure to go see my parents, so I slept at the inn, more often than not with company.

After a week of Domoki’s meditation lessons, I was finally allowed to touch a bow again. I was personally sure that I still had not found my ‘zen,’ but I wasn’t about to tell him that. What I had managed to do was slow my breathing a little, which apparently was beneficial, as it would keep my bow from wavering when I aimed.

I fired off a half dozen arrows, still missing the target, before Domoki stopped me again. Like on the first day, instead of telling me what I was doing wrong, he decided to play the puppet master. He stood directly behind me, placed his hands over top of mine, and drew back the bow. I wasn’t sure if this was supposed to help me find my ‘zen’ or not, but when Domoki stood this close to me, my heart only beat faster. Fortunately, he didn’t stay there for long. With the string pulled back all the way, he said “hold that” and let go. I struggled to keep it there, for the bow was stiffer than was comfortable. As Domoki stepped back, he saw that my string arm had begun to quiver, as the muscles in my back and neck struggled to hold the pose.

“It is as I suspected,” he said, “you are weak.”

The way he said it, it was not meant as an insult, simply an observation, but it still stung a little.

“Go fuck yourself,” I said, in a pleasant tone, to convey that I didn’t appreciate his comment, but wasn’t taking it too seriously either.

“Make me,” he said.

I was stuck there for a moment, as I considered whether or not Domoki, the naïve monk from the mountains, knew what he was saying, or if he was just repeating a generic comeback he had heard somewhere.

“Is that an invitation?” I ventured.

Domoki did not answer. He went back to the weapons rack and picked out another bow.

“This one is has a thirty pound draw-weight. You’ll find it easier than the fifty. We’ll get your technique right, then you can work your way back up to something that can actually kill a man.”

Trying out the lighter bow, I fired off a dozen arrows. This time, some of them actually hit the target, though none were anywhere near the bullseye.

“That will do,” he said simply, “keep practicing.”

Domoki had me shoot arrows until my whole upper body was sore, then he had me meditate for the rest of the afternoon. I still had not found my ‘zen.’

◊◊◊

By the end of the second week, Joanos had finished decoding Ironbriar’s journal, and had taken it back to Justice Vernelli. She still needed to review all the evidence herself, of course, so our confinement to the city was not yet over. Now that his code breaking task was over, I began to see a lot more of Joanos at the library. He was holed up in the history section reading about old Thassilon, and I took care to avoid him.

Domoki added strength training to my archery lessons. The push-ups, chin-ups, and weights would apparently help me move up to a heavier bow sooner, but I wondered a bit if he didn’t just like watching me suffer. He also didn’t stop treating me like a marionette. Perhaps he lacked the words to describe proper technique, because his only method of correcting mine was to physically move my body into the proper form. This often meant getting _very_ close to me, and I wondered if he was doing _that _on purpose as well. I tried not to think about it too much. Domoki was my ally, and until whatever quest we were on was concluded, I would be seeing him every day. I didn’t want things to get complicated between us. Besides, the incident with the pack had reminded me that I’d be making a lot of enemies on this quest, and the more people I got close to, the easier it would be for my enemies to hurt me.

By the end of the month, I could fairly consistently hit a stationary target at sixty feet with a forty pound bow. Despite the progress I had made, I remained convinced that I did not have a ‘zen’ to be found. Domoki was making progress on his trick shots, and was trying to tighten the angles at which he could bounce arrows off of walls.

◊◊◊

At the end of the month, we finally heard back from the council of justices. They had accepted our evidence, and found us guilty of no crimes. We also received an official thanks from the office of the Lord Mayor for foiling the assassination plot against him. In fact, in honour of our contribution to the town’s safety, we were invited to a Gala. I supposed this should not have been surprising, but I couldn’t help but wonder if, had the list of targets not included a good chunk of Magnimar’s wealthy merchants and politicians, our thanks might have been a bit more muted.

I spent the evening being schmoozed up to by a couple of ambitious young politicians. I was just trying to decide whether I should take one or both of them home with me, when Domoki rudely interrupted and tried to start a conversation about bees. He spent the rest of the evening bouncing back and forth between me and Asclepius (who had also attracted quite the entourage), and I wasn’t quite sure if he was intentionally cock-blocking, or just oblivious. If it _was_ intentional, I couldn’t think why he would be doing it to Asclepius. If she needed rescuing, clearly Tenebis would be up to the task.

As the crowd at the Gala started to thin, Lord Mayor Grobaras gathered up the seven of us and asked us into his office.

“First of all, I’d like to thank you all once again for foiling this unspeakable plot against the people of Magnimar. You’ve proven yourselves very capable, and to that end, now that your names have been cleared of any possible wrongdoing, I wondered if you might be interested in a job I have for you.”

I had certainly been itching to get out on the road again, and I’d noticed Domoki had too lately.

“It’s possible,” I said, making a point of sounding only mildly interested. It wouldn’t do to sound excited if we wanted to negotiate pay for this assignment. “What sort of job?”

“Have you heard of the town of Turtleback Ferry?” he asked, sounding rather bored himself.

“It’s one of Magnimar’s distant holdings,” answered Joanos. “Back-water town, more than halfway to Korvosa.”

“Indeed,” answered the mayor. “More trouble than they’re worth, really. We spend more money protecting them than they bring in in taxes. But the council insists that we hold on to them, mostly just to make a point to Korvosa about the extent of our influence. In any case, Turtleback Ferry is protected by Fort Rannick, and we’ve recently lost contact with the Fort. The Black Arrows are normally a fairly reclusive bunch, so we weren’t too concerned at first, but this silence is uncharacteristic, even for them. We’re unable to contact them, even with magic, and we’re afraid something’s gone wrong. There are Ogres nearby, and that can mean trouble. I’m unable to spare any of my own men to go check it out, but you folks, having distinguished yourselves with your recent work, seem like the perfect candidates. I’m willing to offer you 300 crowns apiece to go and deal with this for me.”

If Fort Rannick had indeed been taken over by Ogres, those people needed our help, and I was more than willing to provide it. However, I was not above making a pretty penny off of the Lord Mayor while we were at it.

“Well, that does sound like the sort of thing that might… alleviate our boredom for a time,” I said, casually, “and 300 crowns may sound like a lot to the regular… plebeians you employ as guards. But we are not your regular troops. Our work is expensive (it was; magically enhanced weapons and armour cost thousands of crowns apiece), and to properly equip ourselves to take back a Fort from a company of Ogres, we’ll need quite a lot more. 2,000 each, and we keep any treasure we steal off the Ogres.”

“I recognise that your gear is expensive,” he said, “but at the same time, we don’t know for sure that the Fort has even been taken. There could be any number of reasons why they’ve gone silent. I’m willing to go up to 1000 to compensate you if you really do have to fight off an entire tribe of Ogres. But if you get there and everything’s fine, I’m not paying you more than regular wages for the trip.”

“Very well,” I said. “We’ll take the 1000 in advance. If we do have to fight off a tribe of Ogres, we have to be prepared. If we get there to a happy but incommunicative Fort, we’ll pay you back the difference.”

We shook on it, and left to get back out to the Gala. Joanos sidled up to me as I walked out.

“Oh, Padawan,” he said, “I see you’re learning the language of condescension. I’m so _proud _of you.”

I gave him a coy smile, rolled my eyes, and proceeded to ignore him.

Unfortunately, the two young politicians I’d been speaking with had left when I got called into the meeting, and I ended up going back to the inn alone that night.


	11. Fort Rannick

Getting to Fort Rannick was a two weeks travel on horseback. On the second morning, I awoke with a new spell in my head, and was delighted to find that it was the one that made me sprout wings. Great, leathery, reddish-gold Dragon wings they were, and I could not wait to try them out. My flight was jerky and uncoordinated, and the wings only lasted a few minutes before the faded back into my back. Fortunately, I was not too far off the ground when I made this discovery. It was a start. From then on I would practice flying for some time every day.

About three days out from our destination, as we were making our way through the Sanos Forest, the rains began. It was a heavy, persistent winter rain, and it obscured our vision and chilled us to the bone. At the end of each day, I was happy to peel out of my soaked clothing and crawl into my fur-lined oil-skin hanging tent. Domoki seemed unperturbed by the rain, and continued to sleep out under the stars as he always had. His only complaint was that the rain kept watering down his tea, so I made him a lid for his travel mug, and he seemed content. As the rest of us trudged along miserably, heads down under our cloaks, I couldn’t help but notice Domoki riding along proudly, head held high, the rain pouring down his bare chest and making it shine. There was no harm in looking, I supposed, and it made this miserable trek a little more tolerable. I think he noticed me looking a few times, and he smiled but didn’t say anything.

Turtleback Ferry was a small settlement located at the inlet to Claybottom Lake. The locals seemed friendly enough, though a bit skittish, and they were happy to show us in the see the mayor.

It turned out that their mayor was also their priest, which was rather distasteful to me, but I did manage to keep my mouth shut about that. After introducing ourselves to Father Shreed, and presenting the Lord Mayor’s letter, I started asking him some questions about what had been going on lately.

“Have you heard from Fort Rannick recently?”

“I’m afraid not,” he said. “We usually get a couple of the rangers there visiting town every few days for news and supplies, but we haven’t heard a thing from them for nearly a month. In fact, last week, I sent a group of villagers up there to check things out, and they never returned. There’s definitely something foul going on up there, but I daren’t go look myself. The woods are dangerous, even more so lately, it seems, and I’m an old man now, not as strong as I once was.”

I chuckled, and glanced back at Steranis, who was definitely _much_ older than Father Shreed, even accounting for race. Steranis had a pensive look on his face, and after a moment of thought, asked a question of his own.

“How long has this rain been falling?”

“Weeks,” answered Father Shreed. “It doesn’t stop. Day and night. This season’s crops are already ruined.”

“That’s not natural,” observed Steranis.

“No, it’s not,” agreed Shreed. “It is Erastil’s punishment, I expect, for our sins.”

Erastil was one of the old gods. The god of hunting, farming, and family, or something like that. I wondered what he might be punishing them for.

“What sins, exactly?” I asked.

“Sins – Of – The – Flesh,” he answered, looking directly into my eyes in a rather accusatory manner.

“It would seem my reputation precedes me,” I muttered to Asclepius, stepping back. “Would you care to take this from here?”

Asclepius stepped forward, taking my place.

“What leads you to believe that Erastil would be punishing your village for that now?” she asked. “Has there been an – increase in sinful behaviour?”

Father Shreed sighed.

“A few months ago, a woman named Lucretia sailed into the lake with her boat, and dropped anchor,” he said. I exchanged a meaningful glance with Domoki, having recognised the name, and now being very interested to hear the rest of this story.

“Before long, villagers started visiting her on ‘the Paradise’ and it became clear to me that she was running some sort of business off of this boat. When confronted, she told me it was a gambling hall, but I’m not entirely convinced that that was all it was. I tried to convince her to move on, that this was not the place for such a business, but she would not listen. We’ve always been a quiet, hardworking town, but ever since ‘the Paradise’ showed up, men have been gambling away all their money, drinking themselves silly, and, I suspect, violating their marriage vows.”

“We’d like to speak with her,” said Asclepius. “It’s not the first we’ve heard of this woman.”

“That won’t be possible, I’m afraid,” said Father Shreed. “There was a fire on her boat about three weeks back, and it sank with her on it. She’ll be at the bottom of the lake, I’m sure.”

“That’s very suspicious,” I said, unable to keep quiet at hearing this. “Was this fire an accident?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps it was, or perhaps some the village’s faithful finally decided to do something about her. Frankly, I don’t much care. For what it’s worth, _I _had nothing to do with it.”

I glanced at Domoki, who nodded to confirm that this was true.

“In that case, would it be alright with you if we went out to take a look at the wreck?” asked Asclepius. “I’ve a feeling that she’s connected to whatever has happened at Fort Rannick.”

“Be my guest,” said Father Shreed. “I should warn you, though, the lake’s fairly deep at that point. It’ll be a ways down.”

“That won’t be a problem for us,” she assured him. She thanked him for his time, and we were on our way.

“Are my mannerisms _that_ obvious?” I asked Domoki quietly, as we filed out. “– Or did Father Shreed do his homework on us before we arrived?”

“How do you mean?” asked Domoki.

“Oh come on, Domoki, he knew within three sentences.”

“Knew what?”

“Never mind…” I said. Clearly, Domoki was the wrong person to ask about this.

◊◊◊

We hired some local fishermen to row us out into the middle of the lake. Domoki insisted that someone should stay on shore and watch out for trouble, and the tiger didn’t seem particularly keen on getting in a boat, so he stayed behind as well. Once we were out in the middle of the lake, Steranis transformed himself into an alligator and swam down to take a look. He came back up with some bags of gold, but not much else. After changing back to his usual form, he shared his findings with us: It was Steranis’ belief that the fire had not been an accident. But it was not the ‘village faithful’ who were to blame. Steranis had found no personal effects or bodies in the boat, leading him to believe that she had packed up and left before setting the fire herself. That meant she was still out there somewhere, and this was presumably all part of her plan.

We decided to set out toward the Fort tomorrow morning, which left me with the rest of the afternoon to kill. I didn’t exactly want to spend it in town, given the hostility with which Father Shreed had greeted me, so I thought I might go fishing. I invited Domoki to come along, since he didn’t seem bothered by the rain.

“But if we go out in a boat all afternoon,” he said, “I can’t make tea.”

“You can make tea in the boat,” I said, confused.

“No, I can’t,” he said. “There’s no way to heat water.”

“Domoki… I want you to think about that for a minute. You are talking to the _fire sorcerer_. And you are trying to tell me that there is no possible way to heat water in a boat?”

“I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you…” he mumbled. “You should save your magic for more important things.”

“You’re not afraid of water, are you?” I asked, as it dawned on me that perhaps there was a reason he had stayed ashore while we went out to look at the wreck.

“No, of course not,” he mumbled, turning away to hide his face. “That would be silly.”

Try as might, I couldn’t hold back a small chuckle.

“I’m a _rock_, Urhador. Rocks _sink_. Of _course_ I’m afraid of water.”

“Domoki, the lake is tiny. Even _if_ you fell out and sank to the bottom, you could hold your breath and _walk _to shore before you drowned.”

“I’m not going in a boat, ok?” he snapped.

“You went in a boat to get to Thistletop,” I pointed out.

“It was necessary,” he said quietly.

I had been harping on this for too long, I realized. I went fishing alone. I caught nothing. When night fell, I checked into the inn, bought a pie, and ate it in my room.

◊◊◊

The next morning, we set out for the Fort. Unfortunately for Domoki, the Fort was on the other side of Skull River, so we had to take the ferry across. The ferry for which the town was named was made out of the empty shell of a giant turtle. The turtle shell was six feet across, and as we all crowded on, I noticed Domoki carefully chose the very center of the shell to stand on. He looked around for something to hold on to, but there was nothing, and I saw a slight tremble in his hands as he clenched and released them. He did not exhale until we reached the far shore.

On the other side of the river, we walked upstream. We had left the horses in town, as they were not war-trained, and we expected trouble. It was half a day’s walk to the Fort, and we settled into a comfortable pace as Tenebis circled overhead.

As we walked, Domoki filled me in on a thing that I had missed while I had been out fishing by my lonesome. They had seen the seven pointed star again, this time tattooed on the ankle of one of the locals. When Joanos questioned him about it, he had tried to hide it, and deny its existence. However, when pressed, he had admitted he had gotten it at _The Paradise_. It was membership card of sorts, which allowed him into the gambling hall without paying the cover charge, and he hid it because he was ashamed.

It was clever, Lucretia’s plan, I reflected. By convincing people to tattoo the rune onto themselves willingly, I supposed she did not even have to kill them herself in order for the ritual magic to work. They had been marked, and their souls would feed the Runewell when they died. I could only speculate as to whether she intended to wait until they died naturally, or if she had some more immediate, and more destructive plan to off her victims.

After an hour on the trail, Steranis stopped abruptly.

“You tired already, old man?” asked Joanos.

“No,” replied Steranis, in a whisper. He gestured silently to his tiger, whose ears were perked up and focused intently on a sound to our left.

The tiger, not waiting for an order from Steranis, headed off toward the noise, and Steranis followed.

“Well, I guess we’d better go make sure the old man doesn’t get himself killed,” I said, and we headed off after him.

A few minutes later, the rest of us began to hear the noise. It was a terrible, shrill, yowling sound, and though still in the distance, it sounded like pain.

“It’s a cat,” said Steranis, as he picked up his pace.

I was familiar with the ‘lady in distress’ trap, but the ‘cat in distress’ one was new to me. With a druid in our midst, however, it was no wonder that it worked.

When we found our way to the cat, which turned out to be a black jaguar, we saw that it was stuck in a crude trap set for large game. Fortunately for the cat, we had heard its yowling and come along to rescue it. _Un_fortunately for the cat, someone else had heard its yowling as well. A pack of hunting dogs was fast approaching, and it seemed they would be getting there before we would. In the distance, coming from behind the dogs, I heard singing.

“There’s an Ogre on the way,” said Steranis.

The dogs closed in on the jaguar and surrounded it. They were hesitant to attack, as the jaguar, while trapped, was still a formidable foe. But there were half a dozen dogs, and only one cat, and each one seemed to be taking its turn darting forward, biting at the cat, and retreating.

Tenebis rushed forward and started flinging dogs left and right, Ulrick started shooting, and Domoki drew his bow.

“Why are we involving ourselves in a cat/dog fight?” I asked, to no one in particular.

“Because those dogs belong to the Ogre,” said Steranis, “and they’re going to eat the cat!”

“Well, that’s regrettable,” I admitted, “but Ogres have to eat, too. And I’d much rather they eat cats than people.”

Steranis wasn’t very happy with my position, but that didn’t bother me. I stayed out of the fight, and in the end, Tenebis and the others had no trouble defeating the dogs and the Ogre.

Steranis went up to release the cat and talk to it. After a few minutes of growling back and forth, Steranis turned back to the group and relayed the cat’s story. The jaguar had been an animal companion to a ranger from Fort Rannick. Its master had been captured by Ogres when they took the Fort, and it had managed to slip away. Apparently, it knew where the rangers had been taken.

“And that,” said Steranis, “is why we involve ourselves in cat vs. dog fights. They can yield information.”

“Oh, shush,” I said. “As far as we knew, the jaguar was wild. You just have a soft spot for cats.”

◊◊◊

With the two cats walking side by side, we emerged from the woods and approached a farmstead. It looked fairly normal from the outside, but the jaguar slowed down considerably as we neared it and sniffed the air. Then he softly growled to Steranis a bit, and Steranis translated: The jaguar’s master was in the barn. There were also Ogres in there, and something else, the scent of which neither of the cats recognised.

Tenebis cast a spell on himself and grew to 12 feet tall, and we advanced.

There were two Ogres in the barn, but before we had finished with them, the sounds of combat attracted the attention of the occupants of the house. An Ogre Sorceress surprised us from behind with a fireball, and Tenebis and I flew off to deal with her and her undead companions. Necromancers disgusted me.

With the Ogres dispatched, we went back into the barn. The back area of the barn was walled off, separated from the main area by a set of wide double doors. The wall went only halfway up to the ceiling, so we were able to see into the room without opening the door. The inhabitant of the room was a monstrous spider, eight feet tall and at least twice as wide. The entire room was clogged up with its webbing, and above it a catwalk ran along the outside wall. In the back corners were two cages, and three men were imprisoned in the far cage, naked, beaten, and bloody.

Unfortunately for the spider, we were able to kill it from above before it could get to us. The pungent smell of burning spider silk filled the air as I cleared out the webs. Joanos picked the lock on the cage and Asclepius entered it to tend to the prisoners. The men were shackled to the wall, but they were unconscious, and their bodies hung limply by the wrists. The jaguar slipped past us all, into the cage, got up on his hind legs, and started licking the face of his master. The man came to confused, but after a few seconds of panic and fear, joy and relief flickered across his face as he recognised his companion.

The happy reunion was short lived, and once the man had composed himself, he ordered his cat to sit and looked warily upon his rescuers.

Joanos held up his lock picking tools, asking silently for permission to free him from his shackles. The man nodded, and when he was released, he collapsed upon the floor, throwing his arms around the neck of his jaguar for support.

“You have returned my animal companion to me, and for that I am grateful,” he said. “I am Jakardos. Who are you?”

Joanos continued his work releasing the other two captives from their bonds, and Asclepius busied herself with tending to their wounds. It seemed I was left to answer questions. Who were we, anyway? I settled upon a functional, rather than philosophical, reply:

“The Lord Mayor in Magnimar sent us to check up on you. It seems you’ve been having some Ogre trouble.”

“You could say that, yes,” he admitted.

“So what happened?” I asked, hoping for some indication of how they had managed to lose a well-fortified defensive position to a group of mountain brutes.

“Are we safe?” he asked.

“That depends,” I answered. “Do you know how many of them were in the house? We killed the sorceress and a couple of undead.”

“No, I don’t. I’m sorry.”

“Very well. We mustn’t talk now, then. We’ll clear out the house,” I promised. “You three are in no shape to fight. Stay here.”

As I turned to go, something caught my eye: one of the prisoners had the seven pointed star tattooed on the inside of his ankle. Even now, he tried to hide it, but being naked, this was rather difficult for him. I filed away this knowledge in my head, and after we had left the men food, clothing, and water, we went off to deal with the house.

◊◊◊

I had hoped the house might simply be full of more Ogre combatants to slay, but we were not so lucky. The only Ogres in the house were two children who sat in the living room playing with toys of wood and bone, oblivious to the carnage around them. I knew we could not kill them. They had done nothing wrong. We locked them into a room while we cleared the basement and decided what to do with them.

The basement was home to a giant carnivorous plant. It was rooted in place, and posed no threat to us, so long as we didn’t get too close. Unfortunately, our druid’s curiosity got the better of him, and both Steranis and his tiger got caught in its tentacle-like vines. We rushed to kill the plant before it ate them. Arrows, bullets, and fire flew through the air while sharpened steel sliced through the vines. It seemed just as soon as one vine was cut or burned up, another emerged to take its place. The vines tightened around their victims and began sucking the life out of them. Man and tiger gasped for breath, and by the time the plant went limp, only Steranis was still breathing.

Steranis slowly crawled out of the mess of tangled greenery. He dragged himself over to his tiger and checked its pulse.

“You should have let me die, and saved him,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m an old man, and it’s high time for me to move on.”

◊◊◊

We left the old man to be with his cat, and headed back out to the barn the reassure the human prisoners of their safety. We had found their weapons and armour in the house, and these we brought back out to them. They had eaten and drunk while we cleared the house, and seemed to be recovering some of their strength. I took the one called Vale aside to see if I could get any information out of him.

“I’m afraid there’s not much I can tell ya’,” he said. “You see, our team were away from the Fort on patrol when it were attacked. I suspect it were the only reason we survived, to be level with you. By the time we got back, the Fort was lost. We tried a counter attack, which failed miser’bly, and then fell back into the forest, where we was captured.”

This was less than helpful, as it gave me no insight as to how the Ogres had managed it.

“How many men were at the Fort during the attack?” I asked.

“There’s 43 of us all t’gether – but less the five of us were on patrol, and less Captain Lamatar, who were off on one of ’is trips into the woods.”

“Is that so?” I asked. “And what was Captain Lamatar _doing_ on his trip into the woods?”

“Well,” whispered Vale, “we ain’t supposed to know this… but he has himself a Pixie lover out there.”

“Oh good grief,” I exclaimed, pausing to bang my head into the wall. “And he leaves the Fort – on a regular basis – to fuck?”

“Can’t say I blame ’im,” admitted Vale. “If I had me-self one of them Pixies, I’d be shirkin’ my duties to be with her too.”

“How often did Captain Lamatar take these – leaves of absence?” I asked.

“Oh, I’d say every couple o’ weeks or so, just for a night – but not regular like. You’d never know when the next one would be.”

“I see…” I said. “Do you reckon the timing of the thing was a coincidence? What with the patrol and Captain Lamatar being out that day?”

“A coinky-what?”

“Do you think the Ogres attacked that day on purpose? Might they have known the Captain was out?”

“Oh, yeah. I get your drift,” he said. “I been thinkin’ that me-self. Think maybe we got’s ourself a traitor selling knowledge to the enemy.”

“An interesting theory… Domoki,” I called over my shoulder. “Could you come over here? I have need of your… skills.”

Domoki came up behind me and took a place behind my shoulder, crossing his arms over his chest and looking on.

“Have you any ideas, Vale, who the traitor might have been?”

“Don’t rightly know,” he said. “But if it were me, I’d have found a way to buy my freedom what for my treason. Expect he’s long gone by now.”

I glanced at Domoki for confirmation.

“That’s a fair point,” I said. “Is there anything else you want to tell me?”

“Not as I can think of. Only except I hope we can be of help to you in retaking the Fort, if that’s what you’re after. We know the lay o’ the land, and we can show where there’s a tunnel what’ll get us inside.”

“Thank you, Vale,” I said. “We’ll talk again before we set out for the Fort.”

Once Vale had returned to his companions, I turned to Domoki to get his take.

“Vale is not the traitor,” he said.

“Did you notice the tattoo on the other man’s ankle? Kaven, I think is his name.”

“I did,” said Domoki simply.

“Do you think we should talk to him next?”

“If you don’t mind,” said Domoki, “I’d like to watch him for a bit first. It’s amazing what you can get a man to betray when he doesn’t know you’re on to him.”

“You’re craftier than I thought, Domoki,” I said, rather impressed. “We’ll do that then.”

◊◊◊

Domoki spent the next day or so observing Kaven. He wasn’t the most subtle individual, so Kaven noticed he was being watched, but he didn’t know _why _he was being watched, or that he was being watched more attentively than his companions. During this time, we planned our counter-attack on the fort, and we figured out what to do with the Ogre children that were still locked into the house. Joanos wanted to kill them, arguing that letting out into the wild would just create havoc. I insisted that, Ogres or not, they were children, and they had to be given a chance. We could take them back to Magnimar and drop them at an orphanage or a temple, see if they couldn’t be raised right. We didn’t know how long it would take to re-take the fort, and the children would need to eat in the meantime. I asked Joanos what Ogres ate besides people.

“They’ll eat anything,” he said. “They’ll eat their mother if we throw her corpse in there.”

“Ew,” I said. “We’re _not_ doing that. That’s cruel. We’ll throw the spider corpse in there. Will that do?”

“Yeah, fine, whatever,” said Joanos.

We got the spider corpse into the house, locked them in, and forgot about it. Then we got back to planning our assault on the fort.

We decided to attack the fort from above. Tenebis and I could fly, as could Joanos now, though he didn’t do so frequently. Steranis could transform himself into a pterodactyl, at which point he could fly as well. That left three people needing to be carried, which, between us, we could manage.

The rangers were still in bad shape, and we didn’t want to drag them into combat, so we asked them if they wouldn’t mind providing a diversion while we executed our plan.

“What sort of diversion?” asked Jakardos, who I had determined was their leader.

“Oh, I don’t know,” I said, “set the front gate on fire or something. Anything to keep them busy, really.”

“It’s always fire with you, isn’t it, Urhador?” teased Domoki.

“What? It works,” I defended.

“We would be happy to provide any assistance at all,” said Jakardos. “If we’re going to set the gate on fire, we’re going to need to stop by town and get a hell of a lot of accelerant.”

◊◊◊

On the way to town, Steranis wandered off into the woods again to attract the local wildlife. Domoki had some things to say to me regarding the target of his observations.

“Jakardos and Vale are both very happy to be helping us retake the fort,” he said.

“Yes, and?”

“Kaven is trying his best to _look_ happy about it.”

“He’s not succeeding, is he?”

“No.”

“You know, he could just be scared.”

“He could…”

“You don’t think that’s the case, do you?”

“No.”

“Do you want to let it stew for a bit longer, or should we tell someone?”

“We’ll have to tell Jakardos before we send the rangers off on their own,” reasoned Domoki, “It would be dangerous not to.”

“But we don’t really have any evidence. Getting a tattoo is not treason, nor is not being particularly excited about doing one’s job.”

“No,” said Domoki, “Would you care to speed things up a little? Put him on the defensive?”

“It would be my pleasure.”

I casually walked up to Kaven on the trail. Domoki followed me and took up a position a few steps behind, watching and listening.

“Hello Kaven,” I said.

“Hello Urhador.”

“That’s a nice tattoo you’ve got on your ankle, Kaven,” I said, “begging your pardon for noticing.”

“Oh… um… thank you.”

“Where did you get it?”

“In town.”

“Really…” I said. “Because I was just in Turtleback Ferry, and I found it not to be a very permissive place at all. Old, bigoted, curmudgeon of a mayor they’ve got setting the rules. I’m of half a mind to go back there and see just how badly I can shock to poor fellow. Who was your tattoo artist?”

“Oh, umm, well, you won’t be able to get one there anymore… you see, I sort of… I got it on _The Paradise_… before it sunk.”

“Oh, _the Paradise_,” I said, a note of nostalgia in my voice, “beloved den of debauchery and sin.”

“It wasn’t a brothel, you know. It was just a gambling hall.”

“Look, I don’t care what it was. I’m not some moralistic prick like Father Shreed. Pity about the fire though, isn’t it?”

“Hmm, yes,” he said, getting a little nervous by now, I thought.

“How long ago was it now, that _the Paradise_ sunk?”

“Umm… About three weeks, now, as I hear it,” he answered, getting a little defensive. “I weren’t there.”

“Of course not. You would have been at fort. Or off on patrol? How long ago was the attack?”

“Umm… About three weeks as well…”

“Do you think that’s a coincidence, Kaven?” I asked. “Those two things happening just about the same time?”

“Uh… don’t rightly know… does seem a bit fishy, I suppose,” he answered.

I glanced over at Domoki. He had wandered over to the right of Kaven, a few paces away, so as to get a better look at his face, I supposed. Presently, he gave me a little shake of the head, indicating that Kaven was lying.

“It does seem fishy,” I said.

“Do you think the Ogres burned down the boat, as well as taking the fort?” asked Kaven, trying desperately to turn this interrogation around.

“No, Kaven, I don’t think that,” I said. “What I found interesting, when investigating the wreck, was that Lucretia’s body was not on board.”

“Wasn’t it?” he asked, feigning surprise. He was a good actor, and he might have had me fooled if it weren’t for another little shake of the head from Domoki.

“No, it wasn’t,” I answered. “That tells me she got off the boat in time, and, given that no-one’s seen her since, it makes me wonder if _she_ wasn’t involved in the attack on your fort.”

“Interesting theory…” he muttered.

“It _is_ interesting,” I continued. “And as someone who knew a great deal about the fort’s defenses, and also was in contact with her, _you_ are very interesting to me as well.”

“Look, I didn’t tell her anything,” he said, eliciting another shake of the head from Domoki.

“I’m sure you didn’t – at least, not on purpose. But I know how it is. She gets you in there, she gets you all boozed up and relaxed; you maybe let something slip without meaning to?”

“I – maybe,” he answered, seizing on the opportunity to make himself sound like the victim.

“And then when you finally realized she was working with the Ogres, it was too late, wasn’t it? You couldn’t go back and tell your superiors how badly you’d fucked up, so you arranged to be away when the attack came, right?”

“No! That’s not – I didn’t know!” he insisted, but this time I didn’t need to look at Domoki to know he was full of shit.

Jakardos stormed up behind us and grabbed Kaven by the collar, jerking him to a stop. He had been listening.

“What do we do with traitors in the Black Arrows?” asked Jakardos.

“Jakardos, I swear I didn’t know she was working for them. I would never betray my brothers!” babbled Kaven.

“I don’t care if you knew or not!” exclaimed Jakardos. “You allowed yourself to be compromised! And now forty men are dead because of you! What – do we do – with traitors – in the Black Arrows?”

Kaven looked around, and seemed to consider fleeing for a moment. Looking at us, he thought better of it. Without a word, Kaven got down on his knees and bowed his head. Jakardos drew his sword. With a single blow, Kaven’s head was separated from his shoulders. His body crumpled to the ground, lifeless.

◊◊◊

We buried Kaven by the side of the road. Jakardos and Vale walked away from the fresh grave without a word as Asclepius insisted upon saying the funeral rites. I waited for the familiar words to come to an end, and we were on our way again.

In the village, Jakardos and Vale bought a wagon and filled it with several barrels of oils and a load of dry hay. The hay wouldn’t stay dry for long, as the rain had still not let up, but the oil would burn.

A woman rushed out of her house at the sight of us, carrying a freshly baked pie. She insisted we take it. We would need our strength for Ogre-killing, she said. I thanked her, and we headed off once again for the Fort.

We parted ways from the rangers a couple miles out and took the long way up around to the top of the cliff. Steranis joined back up with us at this point, accompanied by an Allosaurus. I noticed something strange about the Allosaurus, it travelled with a shimmering magic aura around it, 20 feet wide, almost like a bubble.

“What have you got cast on that dinosaur, Steranis?” I asked.

“Lesser globe of invulnerability,” he answered. “It’ll protect him from enemy casters. You can’t cast from outside the bubble into it.”

It occurred to me that that meant it was ‘protected’ from my spells as well, as were any enemies it was in melee with. That struck me as an odd choice, but by this point, I was almost resigned to the fate of Steranis’ animal companions. Whether they were cursed with bad luck, or whether they were simply not as strong as Steranis thought they were, they always seemed to come to rapid and unfortunate ends. I didn’t argue.

From the top of the cliff, we had an excellent view of the fort. The watchtowers were empty, which seemed rather negligent of them. A few Ogres wandered about the yard. They had not noticed us yet. I set off some small fireworks above us to signal the rangers. A few minutes later, the main gate of the outer wall went up in flames. The Ogres in the yard rushed to put it out, turning their backs to us. We flew down and landed on the empty watchtowers, and surveyed the fort below. Outside of the main fort, but still within the outer wall were the stables, a wooden barracks, and a stone kitchen. The barracks stood on stilts, and Ogres had been piling spare firewood underneath to keep it dry. This presented an excellent opportunity for us, and I wasn’t the only one to notice it.

“I’m going to sneak down there are start another fire,” whispered Joanos.

Casting invisibility upon himself, he flew off on his own little arson mission. I quietly cast a charm on the barracks door to keep it locked as Joanos snuck under the building and set the pile alight. I heard a disturbance within the barracks, and moments later the door shook. The Ogres were trying to get out. I expected them to pile up against the door and break through – my charm was not strong enough to prevent that. But the initial shudder was all the movement the door saw, and after that the noise of bickering and fighting rose within the building and the door stood strangely still.

The Ogres on the other side of the yard had now noticed the barracks fire, and they abandoned the task of putting out the gate to seek out the arsonists. At this point, they finally noticed us atop their watchtowers, and started picking up boulders and throwing them at us. We returned fire. Tenebis flew down to engage them in melee while I threw fireballs left and right. Steranis, still in pterodactyl form, flew down with his Allosaurus and joined the fight. The Allosaurus fought on the ground while Steranis harried them with fly-by attacks. More Ogres were pouring out of the stable and kitchens, and Tenebis and the Allosaurus were swarmed. For the moment, Tenebis was holding his own, but he could fly away if he needed to, so I wasn’t terribly concerned about him. The dinosaur, on the hand, was steadily losing ground against his own swarm of Ogres. If I could burn up a few of the nearest Ogres, I might give it an avenue of escape, but Steranis’ magic barrier prevented that. Steranis did his best swooping in and attacking the Ogres from above, but there were too many of them, and with the Allosaurus surrounded, there was no getting a hold of him to fly him back out.

The Allosaurus died on the ground, surrounded by Ogres. But the fight was not quickly over. Steranis landed outside of the crowd of Ogres that had beset his friend. His wings melted away as he shed his pterodactyl form, and assumed instead the form of a stone giant, fourteen feet tall and half as wide. With a great below of rage, Steranis charged into the melee, swinging a long pole-arm before him.

◊◊◊

Several minutes later, the last Ogre fell. I surveyed the empty battlefield. Fallen Ogre bodies were scattered across it, poked full of holes and bleeding blue. The barracks building was still aflame, and the noise inside it grown louder and louder in a great crescendo of anguish and pain as the Ogres inside burned up. Then the noise had stopped all together.

Joanos, now visible once more, was on the tower again.

“How did you keep them in there?” I asked. “The charm I cast on the lock shouldn’t have prevented them from just breaking the door down.”

“They were too busy arguing about who got to break the door down to actually get around to doing it,” he answered.

For a moment I thought he must be joking, but I’d never heard Joanos make a joke before, and he face betrayed no signs of humour.

“That’s… horrifying,” I responded, dumbstruck.

“Just count yourself lucky we’re not up against someone smarter. If they start cooperating more effectively, we’re doomed.”

But there was no time to count myself lucky.

Steranis, still in the shape of a stone giant, was advancing on the door to the inner keep. He had run out of Ogres to slay in the courtyard, and seemed intent on finding more. I yelled at him to stop, but, deafened by rage, he paid me no heed. It seemed we were going into the keep now, whether we were ready or not.

I picked up Asclepius and flew down to ground level, where I was shortly joined by Tenebis, carrying Domoki and Ulrick. The door to the keep was already half broken, presumably on the Ogres’ attack on the Fort, and they had not had a chance to repair it. One side hung half open on its hinges, and the other looked not too far behind. Steranis had started smashing into the door, trying to break it down, and we arrived just in time to provide backup as he finished breaking through. To my surprise, there were no Ogres immediately behind the door, and Steranis’ rampage through the Fort went unhampered as he charged through the hallway in search of fresh Ogre blood.

When he came to the first interior door, he smashed through it with his left shoulder and almost barrelled into the room. Behind the door were three more Ogres. Upon seeing the raging stone giant, the Ogres immediately threw down their weapons and raised their hands in the air in offer of surrender. Steranis was having none of it. The first Ogre went down with a swing of Steranis’ pole-arm to the head.

“Steranis!” yelled out Asclepius, in the commanding tone that I so rarely heard from her. “Calm yourself! I had expected more _self-control_ out of a man of your age. These Ogres are surrendering to us. Act accordingly.”

Steranis reluctantly wrestled control of himself and stepped back.

Tenebis barked out some orders to the Ogres in a language I did not understand. Fortunately, the Ogres did seem to understand it. They nodded their assent, and filed out past our group. Once they were past us however, they broke into a run, making for the outside gate.

“Oh,” said Tenebis, sounding only slightly disappointed. “It looks like those Ogres did not really mean to surrender to us at all. Domoki; Ulrick; don’t let them get away.”

Domoki and Ulrick were happy to oblige. The Ogres didn’t make it to the gate.

◊◊◊

With Steranis (in his new Stone Giant form) and Tenebis (who was currently 12 feet tall as well) leading the way, we set out to clear the rest of the Fort. Most of the Ogres did not prove to be too much trouble. For the most part, they chose to fight, but they were rarely in groups larger than about 4, and they did not excel in the area of teamwork. The trek through the fort was terrifying in a very different way though; the Ogres had not disposed of the bodies of the dead rangers. In nearly every room we entered, we found more dead men, their bodies defiled in every which way, and laying about in various stages of decay. I shall not endeavor to describe these horrors, but suffice it to say, they were the subject of my nightmares for many nights afterward. Asclepius did her best to put their souls to rest, but at this stage, there was only so much that could be done.

It was on the second floor that we finally encountered significant resistance to our retaking of the fort. The Ogre tribe’s chieftain was there, who was kind enough to introduce himself to us, and whom we slew after a long and taxing battle. Behind the last door we opened, we found the even more terrifying Ogress sorcerer whom we presumed to be the chieftain’s wife. Steranis and Tenebis, who had been leading the charge throughout the rest of the fort, were held at bay by her spells, and it seemed there was no getting past her. Joanos, who had been staying in back and contributing to the combat with his own magic until now, entered the melee. I don’t know if he was seized by some magical compulsion, or if he simply encountered a moment of temporary insanity, but he was not cut out of this kind of fighting, and we all knew it. Only seconds later, Joanos was slumped in a heap at the Ogress’ feet.

In time, the Ogress sorcerer was slain as well, though many of us were very close to death when she finally fell. Asclepius ran to check on Joanos, and after a few long moments searching for a pulse, she looked up and shook her head. Joanos’ ferret climbed out of his backpack and started licking his face, trying to rouse him from his sleep. Steranis walked over and chirped to the ferret for a time, then picked it up and put it in his own backpack. Tenebis picked up the body and slung it over his shoulder, and we continued on our way. There was no time to mourn him now; we were still on hostile ground.

◊◊◊

In the basement of the fort, we found no more Ogres, but we did encounter someone whom we had been seeking for some time now. She was in the form of a human woman, but despite her shapeshifting abilities, she still bore something of a family resemblance to her sister Xanesha.

“Lucretia, I presume?” I said, as I spied her through the door that Steranis had just wrenched off its hinges.

“Ah,” she said, in a silvery, almost musical voice, “the heroes of Sandpoint. Welcome. I’ve been expecting you. Come in. Have some wine. I have a proposal to make to all of you. I think you’ll find my offer quite – enticing.”

Steranis was having none of it. He made for her with renewed fury, swinging his pole-arm in front of him. She deftly dodged it, and Tenebis walked up behind him and grabbed hold of his wrist.

“No, no, let her speak,” said Tenebis to Steranis, “this’ll be funny.” He turned to Lucretia, “what do you want?”

“It’s not a matter of what I want,” she continued, in her honeyed voice, “it’s a matter of what I can do for you. Stay out of my way, and you can be Lords. When my plan is complete, this region will be in need of new rulers. That could be you.”

“Tell us more about your plan,” I said, hoping to gain some information, at least, out of her ill-advised attempt to seduce us over to the dark side.

She knew exactly what I was doing, though, and she only laughed.

“You don’t need to know the details,” she said, “you need only to stay here until I am done, so that I can be sure that you don’t interfere.”

This time I laughed.

Tenebis let go of Steranis’ arm. “Go ahead and hit her again, if you want,” he said.

Steranis swung again, and Domoki loosed an arrow at her. The arrow hit, but before we could do anything more, she had drawn herself a portal in the air and stepped through it into who-knows-where. I cursed as our villain got away.


	12. The Flood

Jakardos and Vale returned to the Fort a few hours later. They offered to help with the clean-up, but just as my allies had spared me the horror of cleaning up my dead comrades back at the glassworks, we agreed to spare them the experience of seeing their brothers in their current state. Instead, we put them on guard duty while we gathered up the bodies to be burned.

Steranis had assumed his usual form again, and the old man currently sat at the head of his fallen Allosaurus. His anger had subsided somewhat, but his face was still hard and he did not speak. Asclepius had gone over to talk to him, and I decided to leave well enough alone.

It wasn’t too long before Jakardos and Vale came down from their perch on the watchtower to find us.

“Water level’s gettin’ mighty high…” said Vale.

“Well, it has been raining non-stop for the last three weeks,” I reasoned.

“That’s not it, though,” he insisted. “It weren’t like this before. There’s a dam upstream, and it must’ve broke, or som’thin”

“Well, what do you suggest we do about it?” I asked.

“I dunno,” admitted Vale. “But if it keeps on like this, it’ll flood the village.”

With considerable grumbling, the six of us, less Joanos, got together once more to head down to the river and see what was what.

When we got to Skull River, we saw that Vale had been very much correct. The water level had risen dramatically in the few hours since we’d been here, and it couldn’t be just a result of the rain.

“So,” I asked, primarily to Steranis, since he was a druid, “do we go downstream and evacuate the village, or do we go upstream and see if we can’t fix the dam?”

But as I was speaking, Domoki got my attention and wordlessly pointed into the roiling water. As I followed his gaze, I saw two dark shapes being swept along underwater by the current. Long, serpentine creatures they were, large enough to swallow a man whole.

“Right then,” said Tenebis, “downstream it is.”

We crossed the river on wing before it could get any deeper, and then we set off downstream.

◊◊◊

When we arrived at the village, it had already begun to flood. The great serpents we had seen in Skull River had beat us here, and here they crawled up the beach, which was now submerged, and on to the city streets. A man stood cornered in an alley, and took up a defensive posture between the serpent and a group of school children. Steranis bellowed out a great roar, and once again the old man transformed into a great stone giant. He charged toward the snake, swinging his pole-arm this way and that, and the townspeople parted to make way. Tenebis swooped down to take on the other serpent, who looked much like it had already swallowed someone, and was slithering away to digest its meal.

As for myself, I could no longer fly, for my magic was nearly gone for the day. I brandished my staff and began to pelt the nearest snake with magic missiles.

Before long, there was a great splashing sound behind me, and I turned to see a great monster emerging the lake. The black, many-tentacled thing was at least fifty feet wide, and as it squelched up onto the shore, a great cloud of billowing grey smoke billowed out from it like ink dispersing in water.

Tenebis looked up too, having finished with the serpent he had been fighting, and saw the great monstrosity.

“We’re fucked…” he said out loud.

“Don’t be so pessimistic,” I said, “you’re too pretty to die. And so am I,” I insisted to myself, trying to summon my courage.

The cloud of smoke overtook me, and as I coughed on the bitter air, I felt the familiar rush of hostile magic overtaking me. My vision blurred. People became nothing more than coloured shapes dancing about, and anger rushed through me like a flood. Try as I might, I could no longer distinguish friend from foe. Someone shoved me, and I found myself turning and running after her. I shot at her. Something slimy grabbed me from behind and smashed me against the ground. Everything went black.

◊◊◊

As I slowly regained consciousness, I found that I was lying on my back on the ground. Two faces hovered over me, but my vision was coming slowly, and I could not yet distinguish them. As they slowly faded into view, I began to make out colours. To my left, an olive skinned face with long, silver-white hair; to my right, a grey one, completely bald. Someone’s hand rested on my forehead, and it felt cool against my skin. My reason returned to me faster than my vision, and I was able to fight out the realisation that these were Asclepius and Domoki, respectively, though I still could not see enough to recognise their faces.

“Asclepius, did I hit you?” I asked, slurring my words as I came to.

Domoki, realizing that I was now awake, quickly removed his hand from my forehead and hid it behind his back.

“Don’t mention it,” Asclepius replied. “You were not yourself.”

“I’m sorry I hit you,” I said.

“There’s no need to apologize. How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Dunno,” I answered, “can’t see yet.”

Asclepius recited a spell, and shone a bright light into my eyes. I squinted.

“Good,” she muttered to herself.

“Did I die?” I asked.

“No, you were just unconscious,” she answered.

“That’s what I thought. Because, you see, I’m too pretty to die.”

Domoki chuckled quietly.

“It would seem he is himself again,” said Domoki. “Perhaps you should go tend to the others.”

“There is nothing to be done for them, at the moment” said Asclepius, a note of sorrow in her voice. “But if you two would like to be left alone, I shall go.”

Asclepius packed up her bag and got to her feet.

“Thank you, Pigeon,” said Domoki, as she walked away.

“What did she mean, ‘there is nothing to be done for them?’ What happened?” I asked Domoki.

“Steranis and Ulrick are both dead.”

“Shit,” I said. “Did we slay the sea monster?”

“No,” said Domoki. “It got bored after a while, and returned to the lake. Tenebis says it’s some sort of Demigod, but that’s all he knows.”

Domoki’s face was slowly fading into view as my sight returned to me. One by one, I made out his features: the lumpy, misshapen nose; the droopy eyelids; the chipped and scratched living stone of his cheeks and forehead; the hard-set mouth. Oread faces were foreign to me, and I could not read emotions in his as I did with other people. But his voice betrayed what his face hid, and I knew that Domoki was terrified, angry, and sad, all at once.

“We can bring Steranis, Ulrick, and Joanos back,” I reminded him. “We have the money, we just have to go Magnimar. It worked for Asclepius.”

◊◊◊

When I had fully come to, I watched as Asclepius performed the ritual to call Ulrick back from the afterlife. It turned out she could do this herself now (or perhaps she always could; she wasn’t particularly open about the extent of her abilities). Asclepius laid out Ulrick’s body on the ground, placed the candles around it and lit them. We waited with baited breath as she chanted her prayers and offered up the diamond dust (which I supposed she had had the foresight to procure before we left the city). The precious dust was swept away on the wind. Some of the dust settled on Ulrick’s body. It caught the light in a unique way, causing the silent and still corpse of the young Aasimar to sparkle as we watched it intently for signs of life. All of a sudden, his chest rose in a great, heaving gasp for air. He opened his eyes and blinked several times.

“Sweet!” he exclaimed. “I’m back! Thanks, Pigeon!”

I laughed. It seemed Domoki’s nickname for Asclepius was catching on.

Next was Steranis. The ritual that Asclepius laid out for Steranis was different, and at first, I wasn’t sure why. As Asclepius chanted, something was appearing next to Steranis’ body. It was ethereal at first, wispy and translucent, but slowly it began to take the shape of a man, and I realized what she was doing. Asclepius was creating a whole new body for Steranis, a young one. When he returned, he would no longer be plagued by the aches and pains of old age. The young body had pale skin, broad shoulders, and the delicately pointed ears of a half-elf. It did not come clothed. I thought for a moment that perhaps I ought not to stare, but the process was too interesting for me to forgo watching. When the young body had finished taking form, Asclepius placed one hand on Steranis’ shoulder, the other on the young man’s shoulder, closed her eyes, and concentrated. The young man’s chest slowly began to rise and fall. The young man’s eyes opened and he looked around. Then, as if as an afterthought, he looked down at his own body.

“Hmm, half-elf,” he said. “It’ll do.”

He gave his new body a shake or two, then walked over to his old body, removed the clothes from it, and put them on himself.

“Is there anything you want us to do with your old body?” asked Asclepius.

“No,” answered Steranis, “it is but a vessel. Throw it in the lake.”

We had left Joanos’ body at the Fort, and presently I mentioned we should probably go back for it if we were going to raise him as well. As much as things were far more pleasant without him, I couldn’t deny that he was useful, and if we were up against Demigods, we needed all the help we could get.

“No,” said Asclepius, simply. “He left me instructions not to try to bring him back.”

It took a minute for that information to sink in. I had wondered if his reckless behaviour in the last combat was the result of magical compulsion, but in light of the new information, I began to see it for what it was. Joanos had left this mortal realm on purpose; it was suicide by Ogre.

“What his life really that miserable?” I asked, more to myself than anyone else, but I suppose I spoke aloud, because Asclepius answered me.

“Why do _you_ think he was always drinking?”

I had never thought of it that way, but in retrospect, it was obvious. Joanos had been a profoundly unhappy man, drowning his sorrows in drink, and lashing out at the world whenever he could. I had been unfortunate enough to be on the receiving end of many of his lashing-outs, but now that I saw them in context, I felt a little bad about how I had handled them.

“I suppose I wasn’t really helping matters, was I?” I reflected out loud.

“You are not to blame,” she said. “You were only responding to his attempts to antagonize you.”

Steranis unslung his pack from his shoulders and coaxed Joanos’ ferret out. After a short time chattering back and forth with Steranis, the ferret looked around at each of us, as if to say farewell, and ran off into woods alone.

◊◊◊

The village had been evacuated by this point in light of the rising water level. We were exhausted from the ordeals of the day, so we slept a fitful sleep before heading out the next morning to see what had happened to the dam. I felt stronger in the morning, and a new reserve of magic sat untouched for the day’s use. We packed up quickly and were on our way. As we left town, I noticed the water level had receded a bit since last night, and I breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

As we made our way upstream toward the dam, the river banks rose steeply on both sides until we found ourselves in a canyon carved out by the river.

After a few hours walking, we rounded a corner and the dam came into view. A great stone monstrosity spanned the width of the canyon here. Into the face of it were carved five giant skulls, somewhat weathered over the passage of centuries, but imposing nonetheless. The right-most of the skulls was almost completely obscured by the giant cascade of water pouring down the inside of the dam. A huge section of the dam near the top had cracked and fallen away, and water poured down from the gaping hole with a tremendous roar.

On the near side of the river, a tall stone staircase ascended toward the top of the dam. Along its sides, pikes were hammered into the stone and capped with skulls. The skulls came from all manner of animals, from badgers and foxes to great cats, dogs, and bears, to humans and even the occasional Ogre.

“What kills Ogres around here?” I asked.

“Trolls,” replied Tenebis.

“How do you know that?” I wondered aloud, for Tenebis hadn’t shown much evidence of having done research before this.

“I know a great deal of things,” he answered, “only there was no need to share them when we had Joanos around to do it for me.”

“Oh,” I said, “Sorry.”

“They’re vulnerable to fire,” he added. “Have fun!”

I grinned, and we began to make our way up the steps.

As we ascended the steps, and idea began to form in my mind. Domoki was walking next to me, quietly, deep in thought. He had three quivers strapped to his back, each containing a different type of arrows, and his bow was strung, but hung over his shoulder.

“Domoki,” I asked, “which of these quivers do you use most often?”

“Huh?” he asked, wondering, I suppose, at the intent of the question.

“Which of these quivers do you use most often?” I repeated, not quite willing to let on to the nature of my plan.

“Umm… this one. Cold-iron,” he replied, a bit hesitantly.

I cast a spell and pointed at the quiver he had indicated. A glowing bead of light exited from my index finger and floated over to the quiver of cold iron arrows. There it settled, and the quiver full of arrows glowed faintly for a moment before fading. Domoki looked at me quizzically for a moment, but when I didn’t answer to his inquiring gaze, he shrugged and continued climbing. I smiled quietly to myself and followed him up.

As we neared the top of the stairs, we prepared ourselves for combat. Tenebis grew to twelve feet tall, Steranis assumed Stone Giant form, and I sprouted my wings. Ulrick unholstered his gun and Domoki unslung his bow from his shoulder and knocked an arrow.

The stairs ended abruptly in a small cliff. Ten feet up the cliff was the mouth of a cavern. From another cavern entrance forty feet to the right emerged more stairs leading up to the top of the dam. It seemed the cavern was likely to connect the two entrances, leaving us little choice but to pass right through it. Tenebis flew in, and I followed a short distance behind, and we stopped for a moment to let our eyes adjust to the dim light.

Before us stood an enormous two-headed giant. It wielded a flail in each arm and lumbered towards us from the back of the cave.

“That’s not a Troll,” observed Tenebis, “that’s an Ettin.”

To our surprise, the Ettin spoke before attacking. His two heads took turns shouting brief commands at us.

“Go away!” grunted the left head. “Turn around!” grunted the right one. “Go back!” “No want you here!”

“I’m afraid we can’t do that,” said Tenebis. “We need to fix the dam.”

“No!” “No fix dam!” “Our dam!” “Not yours!” “Go away!” “No bribes!” “Gorger no take bribes!” “Chaw no take bribes!” “No bribes!”

“Really?” I asked, flying up closer to draw attention to myself. “Are you sure you don’t take bribes? Because it does seem to me like that might be the easiest way to deal with this little situation. We do have quite a bit of gold!”

At this, the Ettin attacked.

“Oh well,” I said, flying up out of his reach and raining down fire, “have it your way.”

Those of us who couldn’t fly were still stuck on the stairs, and Tenebis and I had to hold off the Ettin for some time while they climbed up. Steranis probably could have turned into a Pterodactyl again, but then his wingspan would have been too large to enter the mouth of the cave, so this wasn’t helping him. However, in his twelve foot tall stone giant form, he had little trouble hoisting himself up over the lip and into the cave to join the fight.

The ranged attackers couldn’t get a clear shot at the Ettin from down below. The cave did not leave a lot of extra room, and the three of us probably could have handled the Ettin on our own, but nonetheless Ulrick took it upon himself to scramble up the cliff face to get a better shot.

“Really? Is that what we’re doing?” I heard Domoki ask, rhetorically, as he reluctantly began to climb up the cliff as well.

Ulrick scrambled into the cave and bullets began to fly. Unfortunately, entering the cave also put him within reach of the Ettin, who seized the opportunity to attack someone smaller.

Domoki climbed into the cave as well and loosed his first arrow of the fight, and I treasured the look of surprise and glee on his face when the arrow caught fire mid-flight.

“Cool!” exclaimed Domoki, as he fired three more arrows and watched them flare up, but I think he was distracted by the novelty, for all three of them missed their mark.

The Ettin had Ulrick backed into a corner by now, and Ulrick was on his last legs when Domoki’s arrows finally started hitting. Both heads roared, and he wheeled around, still ignoring Tenebis and Steranis, and wailed on Domoki instead. Circling the beast overhead, I stepped up the intensity of my fire, burning through it more rapidly than I ought to.

The Ettin swung his flail out at knee level, sweeping Domoki’s legs out from under him. Domoki fell to the ground, smashing his face against a rock. Tenebis and Steranis swung back at the Ettin with sword and naginata as I continued to pour fire out onto it. It swung its flails once more, at once knocking Steranis back and smashing Domoki’s head further into the rock. Tenebis’ next blow felled the Ettin. I landed next to Domoki. He was not moving, and I dared not turn him over for fear of causing more damage.

Tenebis swooped out of the cave and returned with Asclepius, but after checking for a pulse, she shook her head sadly at me. It was simple gesture, but it hit me in the chest like a Warhammer. Tenebis rolled Domoki over onto his back. The living stone of his face was shattered, and as his body settled onto its back, chips of stone slid off and landed on the ground. Beneath his shattered face, the orange magma of his insides oozed out. I stood there in shock for a few moments, taking in the gruesome sight. Finally, I tore my eyes away from his mangled face and stared imploringly at Asclepius.

“Please tell me you have more diamond dust,” I said. “You can bring him back, right?”

“I can, if he is willing,” she answered.

“The Trolls know we’re coming now. They’ll have heard gunshots,” pointed out Tenebis. “It’s not safe to do it here. We could get jumped.”

“No!” I snapped. “I’m not leaving him here!”

“Then we’ll take him with us,” said Tenebis.

“Yeah, sure, you’re just going to sling him over your shoulder and keep on fighting!” I exclaimed, “That’ll work great! It’s not like you need both arms for that!”

“Tenebis,” said Asclepius, gently, “Urhador is clearly in no shape to go on. Stand watch at the mouth of cave please, and I shall call Domoki back.”

Tenebis and Asclepius stared at each other for a few moments, as if in a battle of wills, but it seemed Asclepius won out. Tenebis turned and walked over to the far side of the cave, and Steranis guarded the near entrance.

The next hour swam by in a blur as Asclepius performed the now familiar ceremony. I was always surprised at how the gust of wind came right at the moment the diamond dust was offered, even in a stuffy cave like this one. It seemed that the Gods really were watching and working through her. The stone of Domoki’s face slowly moved back into place, the gashes closed up, and soon he looked like himself again. His chest began to rise and fall once more, and I breathed out a sigh of relief. I hadn’t noticed I had been holding my breath. Domoki opened his eyes in serene silence. He looked about, and seemed to be counting us, trying to account for each one so as to know he was the only one down. Slowly, he sat up and began checking himself for wounds. Finding none, he looked up at me.

“Well, how do I look?” he asked.

“Well, your face is kinda fucked up…” I began.

He quickly raised his hand to his face to assess the damage.

“…but no more so than usual,” I finished.

The look of worry disappeared from his face and he shot me a disappointed glare. Out the corner of my eye, I saw Ulrick covering his mouth to hide a laugh. Domoki stood and took a few steps forward. I was surprised to find him steady on his feet already.

“Shall we go on then?” he asked.

◊◊◊

Exiting the cave, we climbed the last few steps up to the top of the dam. To the north were the high, churning waters of Storval Deep; to the South, the long drop to Skull River below.

A group of Ogres stood atop the dam a ways from us, chipping away the stonework with pickaxes. That certainly explained the hole in the dam and the flooding. Tenebis and Steranis had great fun pushing the Ogres off the dam and watching them fall down the steep dam wall to their deaths in Skull River.

We walked along the top of the dam to what looked like it might be the control room. Tenebis busted open the door, and we met our first Trolls.

They were massive, broad, sickly green coloured things, with arms hanging down to their knees. They suffered from a terrific case of under-bite, causing their lower tusks to stick out far in front of their faces, with their large flat noses and their black, empty-looking eyes.

They did _not_ like fire, and between my fireballs and Domoki’s flaming arrows, they were soon toast.

“Yeah!” exclaimed Domoki, when the last spark had died out and the burnt Trolls lay at our feet. “Go team flame!”

Tenebis and Ulrick chuckled.

Domoki held one hand out for a high five, but I simply stared at him, one eyebrow raised sceptically.

“Yeah, can you _not_ call us ‘team flame’?” I asked.

“Why?” said Domoki.

“Well, I was _trying_ to avoid the _obvious_ ‘flaming homosexual’ jokes, but apparently, it’s too late for that.”

“I don’t get it,” said Domoki.

“I’ll explain later,” I said. “Let’s find the controls for this dam.”

We did not find the controls on this level, but we did find stairs leading down into the inside of the dam, which we took. When we reached the bottom of the stairs, we found ourselves in a dark room mostly filled with a pool dug into the floor. There was something swimming in the pool, and it tried attacking us – two somethings, in fact, as we soon learned – but they were quickly dissuaded, and they swam off into the depths and out of sight.

In the next room, we were attacked by a strange, scorpion-shaped creature made entirely of skulls. It seemed intent on adding to its collection, and very nearly succeeded when it came to Tenebis’ head. It had him in its pincers and was just about to tear his head off of his body when Asclepius cast a spell on him and he got all slippery and was able to wrench himself out of the skull-scorpion’s grasp. When the creature finally died, it fell apart, and several dozen skulls clattered across the floor.

Looking around, we discovered in this room a scale model of the dam sitting in a small pool against the Eastern wall. This we presumed to be the controls for the dam, though we did not yet know how they worked. Tenebis was eager to sweep the rest of the complex for monsters first before we took to the time to figure that out, and, having no particular desire to be ambushed by some foul creature, I agreed wholeheartedly.

There were only two more rooms left. The first was empty save for another non-descript pool of water.

In the final room, two spacious alcoves were carved into opposite walls, a rusted iron portcullis closing off the entrance to each. Inside the west alcove was nothing more than a pile of crimson ash, but in the left one, a large comatose creature lay on the ground. With its massive dark red humanoid body, larger even than Steranis in his stone giant form, its bat-like wings, and its reptilian face with long, sharp horns, it looked to be a denizen of hell. As we neared the creature to get a closer look, it lifted its head weakly off the ground, opened its glowing red eyes and gasped out a few words in Taldane:

“Please… let me out…”

“Tell me who you are first, and I’ll consider it,” answered Tenebis.

“I was once called… Avaxial… but I have been trapped here for ten thousand years… and no one has called me anything in that time…”

“Who trapped you here?”

“A Runelord named Karzoug. This device…” he gestured to the alcove in which he lay, “sucks out my life-force… to power the dam. And I’m almost out. My brother over there,” he continued, indicating the pile of ash in the other alcove, “ran out about 50 years ago. That’s why the dam… won’t open. It needs life forms in both alcoves for power.”

“Are you a devil?” asked Tenebis.

“You know I am…” he rasped.

“Then why should we let you out?” asked Asclepius.

“Because you only have three options…” answered the Devil, “and letting me out is the least repugnant of them.”

“Oh?” I asked. “How so?”

“Well your first option…” he began, summoning his remaining strength and pulling himself up onto his elbows “…is to let me out. And I shall go back to hell, and I shall bother you no longer. Your second option… is to put someone in that other alcove… and activate the floodgates… sucking the rest of my life-force out and killing me. But if you do this… I still go back to hell, and this time I have a grudge against you, for forcing me to suffer… and when I return, I will burn your homes to the ground, and take everything that you hold dear. And of course your third option… is to leave me here, and do nothing… but if you do that, the dam will break, and the whole land will flood, and I suspect all sorts of people will drown. So you see,” he finished with a coy smile, “you’re in a bit of a fix.”

We retreated out of earshot of the devil to discuss our options.

“First of all, is he telling the truth?” I asked Domoki.

“Yes, but not all of it,” he answered.

“If you kill a devil,” volunteered Asclepius, “it’s stuck in hell for 100 years and can’t leave.”

“It’s when it gets out after 100 years that you have to worry,” said Tenebis.

“Won’t we all be dead by then?” asked Ulrick.

“Domoki won’t,” said Tenebis, “unless he gets himself killed again. And I’d like to think I might still be alive by then as well.”

“Not to mention some of us might have children,” I added. “The question is, if we make some sort of deal with him, can we trust him to follow it?”

“If you are very careful about the wording of the deal,” provided Asclepius, “then yes. A devil is like an evil lawyer. They get you on the technicalities.”

“Then what we need is someone to draft an airtight contract,” said Tenebis.

“Damn it,” I said, “just when we need Joanos, he goes and dies on us.”

“We will just have to do the best we can,” said Tenebis. “I don’t want a devil with a grudge coming back to torment me in my old age.”

“I’m not comfortable with this,” I admitted.

“Good,” said Asclepius, “you shouldn’t be.”

◊◊◊

It took some time, but eventually we came up with what we hoped was an adequate contract.

_This contract is a binding agreement between Avaxial, Pit Fiend of Nessus and the group referred to herein as “The Seven”: Tenebis, of Cheliax; Asclepius, Cleric of Dalenydra; Brother Domoki, of the Kazaron Sactum; Ulrick Kranar; Steranis, fourth incarnation of the Tanglevine Druid; and Ÿridhrenor Ruyshekcu. The fact there are only six members of the group known as “The Seven” shall not void this contract._

_The Seven agrees to dispel the magic circle imprisoning Avaxial on the Material Plane. Furthermore, the Seven agrees to allow Avaxial to Teleport back to Nessus, the ninth level of hell._

_In return, Avaxial agrees to remain in hell for one hundred and one (101) years. During this time, Avaxial shall not enter the Material Plane, nor shall he send any of his minions, associates, contractors, or subsidiaries to the Material Plane for any reason._

_After a period of one hundred and one (101) years has elapsed, Avaxial is permitted to travel between the planes. However, at no point shall Avaxial or his minions, associates, contractors, or subsidiaries contact the Seven or their heirs or descendants for ten generations. Avaxial (and his minions, associates, contractors, and subsidiaries) shall not, directly or indirectly, harm the Seven (or their heirs or descendants for ten generations) nor in any way seek retaliation upon the Seven (or their heirs or descendants for ten generations) for any harm done to him at Skull’s crossing._

When the contract was complete, we passed it through the bars to Avaxial and hoped for the best. He skimmed it over casually, pricked his finger with a sharp fang, and signed it in blood. I was concerned by the fact that he did not even try to argue the terms, and desperately hoped that it was out of desperation that he agreed so readily, and not that we had left an obvious loophole. Avaxial passed it back through the bars and dragged himself to his feet.

Tenebis cast dispel magic upon the stones imprisoning Avaxial, and in seconds, he had Teleported out and was gone from this plane.

◊◊◊

Having released the devil (and hopefully having succeeded at banishing him to hell for an hundred and one years), we were left with the question of how to power the dam.

“So, the dam uses whoever’s in the alcoves as a power source?” I asked, to no one in particular, since we’d all received the same information from Avaxial.

“Seems like,” said Tenebis.

“Right then,” I said, lifting the portcullis on one of the alcoves and stepping in, “I volunteer.”

“Urhador, you don’t need to do that,” said Domoki.

“Relax, Domoki,” I said, “Avaxial was in there for 10,000 years. It obviously drains life force very slowly. One activation isn’t going to kill me.”

I waited expectantly for someone to step into the other alcove.

“Urhador, stop being ridiculous,” said Tenebis. “Get out of there. I’ll summon some scorpions or something.”

“What, you mean it doesn’t have to be sentient life?” I asked. “You can just throw any old bug in there and it’ll work?”

“Only one way to find out,” said Tenebis.

I stepped out of the alcove, slightly embarrassed.

Tenebis dismissed his Eidolon, and the telltale glow lifted off of him, forming into its own creature and flying up through the ceiling of the room and out of sight.

Steranis, meanwhile, was staring very intently at the stone floor of the East alcove. As he stared, the stone slowly began to move, molding and shaping itself like clay until it had formed the shape of a small cage in the center of the alcove’s floor.

When the cage was complete, Tenebis walked over and summoned a scorpion into it. The scorpion skittered to and fro within the cage, searching for a way out, but there was none, and its efforts were fruitless.

When Steranis and Tenebis had repeated the procedure in the other alcove, we stood around waiting for something to happen. Nothing did.

“The controls,” said Tenebis, as walked out of the room and back towards the scale model of the dam we had found earlier.

A minute later, there was a great flash of light in each alcove, and when the light faded, two, tiny black piles of ash remained – all that was left of the summoned scorpions. Then there was a low rumbling sound and the floor beneath my feet vibrated. The sound of rushing water filled my ears as the water of Storval deep finally flowed once again through the open floodgate of the Skull’s Crossing Dam.

The flooding in Turtleback Ferry would be worse at first, since there was more water pouring through the floodgate than had been pouring over the top, but we had relieved the pressure on the dam, and the danger of it collapsing altogether had thus past. Once this infernal _rain_ stopped, everything should go back to normal.


	13. Falling

It was evening on the same day that we had taken the dam, and I lay awake in my hanging tent, trying to find sleep. Today had been thoroughly embarrassing. I had totally lost my cool when Domoki died, and while I had tried to save face afterwards with a quick return to my usual, joking demeanor, I was certain that that would not be sufficient to stop the rumor mill.

Regardless of what anyone else thought about it, the events of today had made it abundantly clear, to me at least, that I cared for Domoki a great deal more than was appropriate. I had been telling myself since our time in Magnimar that I shouldn’t get too close to him, or indeed anyone, for fear of making myself easier to hurt. In that, it seemed that I had failed miserably. It did occur to me, at this point, that if I _was_ going to get close to anyone, Domoki was not a bad choice. He was difficult to kill or capture, I didn’t have to let him out of my sight, and we had a healer with us who could literally bring people back from the dead. In light of that, the concept of death had lost a great deal of its sting.

The other matter that I could not get out of my head was our deal with the devil. We had made copies of it, so that we could each have one, and presently I got mine out, placed a magical orb of light above my shoulder, and read it over a few more times. I was almost sure that if I kept reading it over, I would eventually find some loophole that Avaxial would be able to exploit, but if that was the case, I’d rather know about it in advance. I found nothing, not tonight, but I rolled it up carefully and placed it back in my bag for later review.

When I finally fell asleep, it was not a restful sleep. My dreams were filled with images from Fort Rannick, of those poor rangers. I could only hope that death was the first of the horrors inflicted upon them, and not the last.

◊◊◊

When Tenebis woke me for night watch, I was glad to wake up. I could better control my thoughts when I was conscious.

“Your turn for watch duty, Urhador” he called through the side of my tent.

I climbed out and acknowledged him with a nod.

“Remember to be watching for enemies, and not just your watch partner,” he teased.

“What are you implying?” I said, feigning innocence, “Would I neglect my duties?”

“I don’t know, would you?” he asked. “Do we need to change the watch schedule so you and Domoki are separated?”

“It’s not like that,” I said, mostly because it seemed like good form to at least try to deny it.

“Oh, isn’t it?”

“No, of course not. Have you looked at him? Domoki is like an incontinent kitten. Endearing, but you don’t really want him on top of you.”

Tenebis laughed at that and I took the opportunity to turn the questioning around.

“Do we need to change the watch schedule so you and Asclepius are separated?” I asked.

Tenebis looked down at me with a disappointed look on his face.

“Asclepius sleeps in my room for protection. That’s all it is,” he insisted.

“Right, yes, of course, there’s nothing there,” I pretended to agree. “That’s why, when she got kidnapped, you were so angry that you sliced Elsapeth in half.”

Tenebis seemed to genuinely resent me bringing that up, for he didn’t answer, but simply turned on his heel and walked off.

◊◊◊

Sitting back to back with Domoki on the top of the Dam, I breathed in the thick, Earthy smell of rain on the air. The rain still showed no sign up letting up, but I was getting rather used to it by now and I was dressed for the weather.

“So, what’s it like on the other side?” I asked.

“Mossy,” said Domoki, “and quiet.”

“Hmm,” I said. “I suppose it’s different for everyone.”

“Why? What would you like to see on the other side?”

“I don’t know,” I lied. “I never really thought about it.”

I could only imagine Domoki recognized my lie for what it was, but he did not press for more information.

The night was quiet, save for the crickets, and the four hours of the night watch passed without another word.

◊◊◊

In the morning, Tenebis and Steranis got to work on setting up a more permanent solution to power the dam. We couldn’t guarantee that there would be someone around the next time the floodgates needed to be opened or closed, so Tenebis proposed to make some sort of device that would summon scorpions automatically every day, so that they would always be there when they were needed. That would take a couple of weeks, he thought.

Domoki and Ulrick went outside to set up an archery range, and I found myself alone with Asclepius.

“So…” I said, “…dam’s fixed… Ogres and Trolls are dead… what are we going to do about the sea monster?”

“That sea monster is beyond our ability to handle,” she admitted regretfully. “The only the thing I can think to do about it is pray.”

“You’d better get to it, then,” I said, “the Gods don’t listen to _my_ prayers.”

“You pray?” she asked, her surprise evident in her voice.

“I used to,” I answered. “I was actually quite devout in my youth.”

“What happened?”

“My little sister died.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Yes, well… it was a long a time ago. I should go. I’ll leave you to your prayers. Perhaps they will do some good, and the sea monster will not bother us again.”

I went outside to help Domoki and Ulrick with their shooting range.

◊◊◊

“Ah, it’s the arsonist again,” said Domoki, when I found him on shore, setting up hay bales on top of stumps. “What brings you here?”

“I was just bored again,” I said. “There’s nothing to burn inside.”

“Well there’s nothing to burn out here, either,” he pointed out. “Everything is soaking wet.”

“Yeah, well, everyone inside is busy. And you make for better company than them, anyway.”

Domoki smiled.

“Would you be less bored if we went somewhere else?” he asked. “We could stay at Fort Rannick, or in Turtleback Ferry.”

“No,” I said. “Tenebis and Steranis need to stay here to finish fixing the dam, and its best if we all stick together in case we’re attacked. Besides, Fort Rannick is full of the memories of dead rangers, and I don’t think I’m welcome in Turtleback Ferry.”

I could picture the gears turning in Domoki’s head, as he tried to puzzle out that last bit.

“What _is_ Father Shreed’s problem with you, anyway?”

I thought for a moment about how to explain this to Domoki. If he didn’t understand it already, I was going to have to start right at the beginning to make sure he didn’t miss anything.

“Well, you see, Domoki,” I started, “I like _men_…”

“Well, yes, I know _that_,” he replied.

I was relieved for a moment that I didn’t have to explain _that_ part to him. Then I realized that if he understood that part, but still didn’t get the problem, it would be even _more_ difficult for me to explain, because the rest of it hinged on a concept that I had never really understood myself.

“Well,” I continued, “some people have a _problem_ with that.”

“Why?” he asked, innocently.

“I don’t know. Perhaps it’s because the Gods they worship have an unnecessarily narrow definition of ‘family’.”

“Do you think they really do?” he asked, “Or it is just a matter of interpretation?”

“You tell me,” I said, “you’re the monk.”

“I don’t know much about the Gods, actually,” he admitted.

“How? Isn’t that kind of the point of a monastery?”

“Well, generally yes. But I showed early promise as an archer, and my instructor asked the Abbot if I could be excused from some of my other classes to develop the skill. He agreed, and to my surprise, I was excused from _all_ of my classes except for archery, unarmed combat, and meditation. I didn’t find out why until later, but apparently the Abbot had been waiting for a child like me. He had been warned that the Gods would need me, so he instructed my archery instructor to spare no effort in honing my skills.”

“So, let me get this straight: you’re a monk who knows basically nothing about religion.”

“Whether or not I’m a monk is up for debate, I suppose. I’ve always _considered_ myself one, but I suppose I don’t really meet the main criteria. I’m an archer trained at a monastery.”

“Well that explains that, I suppose.”

“Ok, but seriously, what is Father Shreed’s problem with you? I still don’t understand it.”

“Well, Domoki, I don’t know if I can explain it any better than I already have.”

“It doesn’t affect him in any way. Why would he care?”

Domoki’s voice betrayed not a note of sarcasm, and I found his innocence on this issue rather refreshing.

“I don’t know. Maybe he’s afraid I will seduce his flock out from under him,” I joked.

“You couldn’t possibly seduce his _entire flock_,” pointed out Domoki.

“I’m almost tempted to try,” I mused.

“That’d show him,” said Domoki.

“So how did the Abbot know that the Gods would need you?” I asked, changing the subject again.

“I don’t know. The Empyreal Lords must have more messengers than just Pigeon, though. One of them must have contacted him.”

Domoki pulled a marker out of his pack and started marking the centers of his targets.

“So when did you find out you were a ‘child of Destiny’?” I teased.

“I was no longer a child. That would have done terrible things for my ego. The Abbot didn’t tell me until shortly before I was sent away from the monastery. That way, when I was instructed to go to Sandpoint, and Asclepius found me, I knew that I was meant to join her.”

“Convenient,” I said.

“Why did you decide to join the Seven?” he asked. “You had a life back in Sandpoint.”

“My home was attacked, Domoki. I had to join you at least long enough to weed out the goblin threat. One thing led to another, and by the time that whole Tsuto ordeal was over, my life in Sandpoint was barely salvageable. Could I have gone back there after our time in Magnimar, taken on some apprentices, and tried to restart the glassworks? I suppose, but this is so much more interesting. There’ll be plenty of time for that when this is all over – _if_ this is ever all over.”

“Why do you suppose the others joined?” asked Domoki.

“Joanos was probably just looking for a diversion. Either that, or he was suicidal all along and was just waiting for something big and bad enough to give him a memorable death.”

Domoki finished marking his targets and began to walk back to where he’d left his bow.

“How about Ulrick and Tenebis?” he asked.

“Do you really have to ask that?” I asked, incredulously.

“Yeah, what, am I missing something?”

“If you were a brave, adventure-seeking, _straight_ young man like Ulrick or Tenebis, and a gorgeous young woman like Asclepius came along and told you she had a quest for you, would you be asking a lot of follow-up questions?”

“Oh,” said Domoki. “You think they’re after Pigeon.”

“Well, in Tenebis’ case, I’d say he’s considerably more than just _after _her.”

“She said it wasn’t like that!”

“Yes, Domoki, and one of these days, you might just have to consider the fact that your lie-detection skills are not _completely_ infallible.”

“Nonsense,” said Domoki. “Hand me Rainmaker.”

I picked up his bow, and handed it to him.

“You named your bow?”

“Yes,” said Domoki. “Lots of people name their weapons. It’s not unusual.”

“Wasn’t implying that it was.”

“You’re a sorcerer, so you don’t really have a weapon. Or your hands are your weapons. You should name one of your hands.”

I struggled to keep from laughing.

“No, Domoki, I’m not going to do that.” I said.

“Why not?”

“I’ll explain when you’re older.”

“I’m 88 years old, Urhador. I’m older than you.”

“Then you, my friend, are sorely lacking in education.”

Domoki ignored me and started practicing his trick shots again.

◊◊◊

The next day, Ulrick and Asclepius headed down to Turtleback Ferry to see how the villagers were doing. The water level was starting to lower a bit, and it might be possible to move some of them back into their homes. Steranis and Tenebis were working on the dam.

“You know, Domoki, it occurs to me that I should probably go check on those Ogre children,” I said. “They’ve been locked into their house for days now.”

“You cannot go alone,” he insisted. “These woods are dangerous. I will go with you.”

I wondered for a moment if his protectiveness had anything to do with _me_, or if he would have done the same for any other member of the party. Domoki strung Rainmaker and grabbed a couple quivers of arrows, and we were off.

When we got to the farm where we had left the Ogre children, all was silent. The front door unlocked with a soft click, and still, nothing stirred. I padded quietly in and peered round the corner into the room they’d been in when we last saw them.

The two Ogre children lay dead on the floor. It seemed like some sort of fight had taken place. Both were covered in stab wounds. The older child still clutched a knife in his pudgy hand, and the younger had dropped his weapons and tried to drag himself away before dying of his wounds.

“We never should have left them alone,” I said, surveying the gruesome scene.

“No,” said Domoki.

“I’m not sure what we _should_ have done, though. We couldn’t take care of them ourselves. We had a Fort to retake. And I doubt I’d have had much luck finding someone in Turtleback Ferry who was willing to care for them.”

“You could have tried,” pointed out Domoki.

“Yes,” I agreed. “I should have tried.”

◊◊◊

When we got back to Skull’s crossing, Asclepius and Ulrick had returned as well from their trip into town.

“How are things in town?” I asked.

“They’re settling down,” said Asclepius. “The water has receded enough that most of the buildings are habitable again.”

“Good,” said Domoki. “Any sign of the sea monster?”

“No,” she answered, “It doesn’t seem to be in Claybottom Lake anymore. I like to think it’s moved on.”

“Well, thank the Gods for that,” said Domoki.

“Where were you?” asked Ulrick.

“We – went to check up on the Ogre children at the farm,” I answered.

“- and?” prompted Asclepius.

“They had killed each other.”

“Sadly, that doesn’t surprise me,” said Asclepius, a mournful note in her voice. “They never knew anything but violence.”

“Was there something more we could have done for them? Realistically?”

“I don’t know,” said Asclepius, “I honestly don’t know.”

◊◊◊

For the two weeks that Steranis and Tenebis spent permanently fixing the dam, I settled into another routine.

In the mornings, I joined Domoki at his homemade archery range. I had brought a 50 pound bow with me from Magnimar, and I found that I was easily strong enough now to use it effectively. It still did not go nearly as far as Rainmaker, which had a 70 pound draw weight, but I did not expect to match Domoki’s range anytime ever.

After lunch, I went flying. The view was incredible from up there, and a couple of times I noticed Domoki standing and watching me from the top of the dam with what might possibly be envy in his face. On the third day of this routine, as I landed, Domoki was standing there waiting for me.

“Breathtaking view, from up there,” I said.

“I’m sure,” he said. “Do you think… no, never mind.”

“Don’t you ‘never mind’ me, Domoki. What were you going to say?”

He hesitated.

“…do you think you could take me up there?” he asked.

I thought about it for a minute. I had certainly been getting stronger recently, partly from archery practice, but far more from my Dragon blood which coursed ever stronger through my veins. I was quite sure, in fact, that I could lift Domoki on land, but the question was whether I could fly with him, and of that I was not sure. Taking off would be the biggest problem, but once we were in the air, I suspected I could do it. An idea dawned on me.

“Domoki, go find me a rock that weighs as much as you do.”

“I _am _a rock that weighs as much as I do,” pointed out Domoki.

“Domoki, go find me a _non-sentient_ rock that weighs as much as you do.”

Domoki walked off into the woods and returned sometime later clutching a mid-sized boulder. He put it down in front of me. I knelt down, got a good grip on it, and hefted it up. Standing slowly back up, I took a few deep breaths. Then, with three long strides, I launched myself off the South side of the dam.

I fell rapidly. My wings strained under the load and I felt the air rushing past my face as I tried desperately to level off my flight. I was just beginning to make way, but the water was rushing up towards me too quickly. I dropped the boulder and flapped my wings furiously, regaining control and sailing off just as my feet grazed the water line.

I flew back up to the top of the dam and landed.

“Never mind, Urhador,” said Domoki. “It’s alright. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“Oh, I’m not giving up that quickly,” I insisted. “More rocks. Every day, until I can do it.”

So every day after that, Domoki brought me a boulder at the beginning of my flying practice, and every day I jumped off the South side of the dam and tried to fly with it. I started with some smaller ones, and gradually worked my way up in size, always flying with as heavy a boulder as I could manage that day.

Later in the afternoons, after flying practice, when my arms with tired from archery and my wings were tired from flying and my back was tired from both, I would settle down for some reading. We had taken some books from the limited library at Fort Rannick (Jakardos and Vale assured us it was ok) and some of them proved interesting enough.

Asclepius caught me reading a book about Ragathiel, an Empyreal Lord and God of Vengeance.

“Interested in getting back into religion?” she asked.

I pondered her question for a moment.

“Perhaps. But not for Ragathiel. I’ve had my vengeance already, and it was far too sweet.”

“I’m happy to hear you say that,” she replied.

◊◊◊

It was on the eighth day that I finally took flight with a Domoki-sized boulder. I spiralled back up to the top of the dam and passed Domoki triumphantly as I sailed into the sky. I flew about for a bit, then landed and took off again, just to prove to myself that I could do it again. After a few repetitions of this, I was confident. When I landed for the last time that day, I said to Domoki:

“Tomorrow, we can go flying.”

◊◊◊

Domoki tried to hide his nervousness when he met me the next day on the top of the dam. I tried to radiate confidence to cancel it out. I could not carry Domoki on my back while I flew, for I was afraid he would interfere with my wings, so I had to carry him in front of me. I reached around him and held him close.

“Fold your legs in front of you so I can run,” I said.

Domoki lifted his legs up to his chest. With three long strides, I once again launched myself off of the dam. We plummeted towards the water. I felt every muscle in my wings fight as they strained against the air, and gradually, our descent began to slow. When my flight levelled out, the spray of the water was in our faces and the tips of Domoki’s feet just grazed the river, and then we were off, up and away once again.

I climbed up to an altitude where the view was optimal, and looped around lazily a few times.

“What do you think?” I asked.

“I don’t know, I haven’t opened my eyes yet,” admitted Domoki is a terse voice.

“Well, for Gods’ sake, open them then!”

Domoki opened his eyes and gasped.

“It’s incredible,” he said, as he looked down upon the rolling hills of the wooded landscape to the South. Looping slowly around, we admired the Mountains to the East and West, and the sparkling dark waters of Storval Deep to the North.

◊◊◊

For the next several days, I took Domoki with me when I went flying. He couldn’t get enough of the view, and I was happy to hone my strength and my flying skills with the extra weight. Besides, I wasn’t about to complain about a pastime that gave me an excellent excuse to hold Domoki tight against my chest.

Some days we talked as we flew, and other days we admired the landscape in silence. Every now and again the Sun would break through a gap in the clouds for a short period, though it still rained constantly. When it did, I took care to fly directly towards it, for I would take the feeling of the Sun on my face anytime I got the chance.

Today we had chased the Sun out over Storval Deep, and I was having great fun swooping down close to the water and forcing Domoki to dip his toes in before climbing back up into the sky.

“So, what would you do if I dropped you in the lake?” I asked, jokingly.

“Die, fire bitch!” he answered, with just enough humour in his voice that I knew he wasn’t _actually_ mad at me.

“_Brother_ Domoki, I have _never_ heard you swear before!” I teased.

“Yes, Urhador, you’re a terrible influence,” he shot right back, without missing a beat.

“So I’ve been told.”

“Oh?” he asked. “How many innocents have you corrupted, then?”

“I don’t know,” I mused. “How do you define ‘innocent’?”

“Like me,” he said.

“Domoki, I have never met _anyone_ like you.”

“I’m not sure whether to take that as an insult or a compliment.”

“Well, it was meant as a compliment,” I said.

“Then I shall take it that way.”

“You know I wouldn’t _actually _drop you in the lake, right?”

“I know.”

“We’re all allowed our fears, and I suppose I really ought not to make fun of yours.”

“What are you afraid of, Urhador?”

“Myself,” I answered honestly.

“How is that going, by the way?” he asked. “Have you…”

“Have I enjoyed killing anyone since Tsuto? No.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“It’s reassuring. Perhaps when this is all over – again, _if _it’s ever all over – I’ll be able to settle down and lead a normal life again. Who knows?”

Domoki was quiet for a bit, and I wondered what he was thinking.

“What do you think you’ll do when our quest is over?” I asked. “Will you go back to the monastery?”

“I don’t think so,” said Domoki. “I was raised there for a specific purpose. Once our quest is complete, they will have no further need of me and my obligation to them will be over. If we survive this mission, I can do anything I want afterwards. I guess I never really thought much about _what_ I want. I never had a choice before.”


	14. Hook Mountain

Two weeks had passed, and Tenebis and Steranis had finished their automatic dam control system. A man named Edyan arrived from Magnimar, said he was an inspector sent by the Lord Mayor. He had heard that we had taken the fort and the dam and had come to see what the state of things was. He took his time inspecting the dam and the new the scorpion summoning device, and we haggled over the price of the dam repairs. I was disappointed to find that he was not gullible enough for me to overcharge. In fact, it seemed he knew enough about magic to actually understand what he was paying for. When I came to this realization, I looked over at Asclepius, who seemed to share it, from the look on her face, she was thinking very hard about that. Having lost Joanos, it seemed plausible that she might be looking for a replacement for him.

After we had negotiated a price for the dam repairs, Edyan stuck around for a bit. This was not surprising, since he had just travelled all the way from Magnimar, and would want to rest a bit before returning. This gave Asclepius an excellent opportunity to attempt his recruitment. Edyan was sitting in a corner reading a book when Asclepius walked over to him and sat down. I eavesdropped.

“So what exactly are your instructions from the Lord Mayor?” she asked.

“To evaluate the situation in Turtleback Ferry;” he answered, barely looking up from his book, “to determine the requirements for re-manning the Fort; and to evaluate the performance of the _special_ _constables._”

“Well,” answered Asclepius, “you are welcome to evaluate us however you see fit. But our work is not yet done. It would behoove you to stick around until it is, if you are to give a proper report to the Lord Mayor.”

“Oh?” asked Edyan, finally putting down his book, “I was under the impression that you had everything under control.”

“For the most part,” she acknowledged, “but it is still raining.”

“…and?”

“It has been raining for over a month now.”

“Well that is most unfortunate,” said Edyan, picking up his book once more.

“It’s not natural,” pointed out Asclepius, “someone is _making_ it rain. Surely a man as well versed in magic as yourself knows just how dangerous such a person could be.”

“If you are correct, and someone _is_ controlling the weather,” admitted Edyan, “that does merit an investigation.”

“I’m sure the Lord Mayor would not be pleased,” continued Asclepius, “if you were to return to Magnimar before such an investigation was complete.”

Edyan grunted his reluctant assent. “I have to go to the Fort tomorrow. After that, we’ll see what we can find out about your unusual weather patterns.”

Asclepius smiled. “We might as well come along. We have a lead there.”

Edyan did not reply, so Asclepius got up and left him to his book, leaving the room with a satisfied smile plastered to her face. I followed her out.

“We have a lead at Fort Rannick?” I asked, “First I’ve heard of it.”

“Well, no, not really,” she admitted, “but it is the last place we saw Lucretia, and it seems as good a place as any to start looking for clues.”

◊◊◊

As we went on our way back to Fort Rannick, Asclepius briefed us on what we had learned from Father Shreed in her trips back to the village. The village of Turtleback Ferry was situated as close to the middle of nowhere as possible. As such, when the villagers ventured into Sanos Forest, they often encountered various woodland sprites. However, recently, the fey sightings had been occurring closer and closer to the village, almost as if the fey were being driven out of their traditional territories. Father Shreed suspected that something was afoul in the woods, and it seemed likely to me that whatever foul thing was driving the fey out of their lands might be related to whatever was causing the rains. I certainly didn’t buy into the explanation that it was Erastil’s punishment for their ‘sins’.

As we neared Fort Rannick, we got our own glimpse of the fey. A two foot tall male Pixie sat on a branch above the trail, dangling his legs and whistling a melancholy tune.

When he saw us coming down the trail, his song broke off, and he called out to us in the common tongue.

“Hello!” he said, “I am Yap.”

“Hello, Yap,” I responded, moving to the front of the group. “I am Urhador. What brings you here?”

“Are you friends of Captain Lamatar?” he asked, ignoring my question.

I remembered the name, from Vale’s account of the attack on the Fort. Captain Lamatar had been the commander of the Black Arrows, and had been away from the Fort visiting his pixie lover when the attack occurred. I decided to go with the answer that, while not quite true, would be more likely to yield results.

“Yes,” I said.

“Then perhaps you can help,” he said. “My mistress, she is… ill. Very ill. Death would have been a kindness. The land sickens with her heart, and it cannot be cleansed until her misery is purged. I cannot do this myself. Please, you must help her! I can take you to her—maybe you can do something. I have tried everything to cure her forlorn heart, but to no avail. She wails and moans in Whitewillow, and the trees and plants and nixies and frogs and _everything _are dying or worse! I can take you there! _Please_!”

I glanced over at Steranis. I did not know if what the Pixie was saying was even possible, but the druid ought to know. Steranis shrugged his shoulders, and Domoki gave a little nod to confirm that the Pixie was telling the truth.

“Well, then,” I said to the Pixie, “show us the way.”

The Pixie flew down from his perch and began to lead us westward through the woods, pausing from time to time to check that we were still following him. The six of us followed, and, to my surprise, after a moment of internal debate, Edyan did too.

“Curious?” I asked him.

“I must admit I am,” he said.

As we followed Yap ever deeper into the woods, the forest gave way to swampland, and those of us who could not fly soon found themselves wading through knee-deep muck. I offered to carry Domoki, to spare him the effort, but he said he did not mind the mud, and actually seemed to be telling the truth. Tenebis offered to carry Asclepius, and she accepted, for she, unlike Domoki, was not a lunatic. Nobody offered to carry Ulrick. Edyan, it turned out, could fly.

The swamp grew murkier and darker as we went, and the clouds seemed to gather even thicker overhead. The ever-present rain fell heavier here. The remaining trees had lost their leaves, and their twisted black forms marred the landscape, lending it a barren, foreboding feeling. The birdsong and the chirping crickets and the croaking frogs could no longer be heard, the eerie stillness lay like a heavy blanket in the air.

As we went on, my wings grew tired, and I found myself wading along with Domoki and Ulrick. The mud was cold and thick, and poured in over the tops of my boots.

Shadowy figures flew between the trees, vaguely humanoid forms, stretched and twisted and insubstantial. Out of the mud rose a ghost ship, translucent and seemingly weightless. Muted organ music emanated from it, breaking the silence of the past hour, but only adding to the uneasy atmosphere.

“Is she in there?” I asked Yap.

“No,” answered the Pixie, “that was not there before.”

“Should we go around?” I asked, “Or should we go in?”

But it was too late, for Ulrick had already begun making his way up the gangplank, which, surprisingly held steady under his feet.

“Well, I guess we’re going in,” I said, as the rest of us followed him in. We followed the sound of the organ music to the captain’s quarters, where a ghostly figure, dressed in the garb of the Varisian Navy, sat at the organ and played. He did not acknowledge our presence, seeming intently focused on his music.

“Hello,” said Tenebis, “who are you?”

The ghost Captain played on.

Tenebis walked up to him and waved.

The ghost Captain played on.

Tenebis waved his hand in front of the Captain’s face.

The ghost Captain played on.

Tenebis tapped the Captain on the shoulder.

The ghost Captain played on.

“You want his attention?” I asked.

I walked up to the organ and removed the sheet music from the stand.

The ghost Captain played on.

“Should we put him out of his misery?” asked Tenebis.

“He doesn’t seem miserable to me,” I pointed out.

“All undead are miserable,” said Tenebis.

“Perhaps not…” said Asclepius.

We left the captain to his music, and continued on our way.

◊◊◊

A mile further into the swamp, we finally came to our destination.

Over a murky pool of water floated the ghost of a Pixie. Her arms had been torn from her body, yet they still floated there by her sides, outstretched toward the sky in pain or anguish. She was crying. When she saw us, a fresh wave of despair poured out from her, and began to worm its way into my mind. I fought against it with all of my will, but it was persistent. It wormed its way in through the nooks and crannies of my mind, hitting on every failure I had experienced since Swallowtail. Images flew through my mind in rapid succession: my dead coworkers, in pieces on the glassworks floor; Ameiko, bound and gagged in the basement; Asclepius, dead outside the temple of Lamashtu at Thistletop; the bodies at the Scarnetti mill, the first hooked up on the wall with the Sihedron Rune carved into his chest, the second crushed in the log splitter; each one of Steranis’ animal companions, dead; Ares, undead and dead again; Tsuto, burning up before my eyes as I watched in perverse pleasure. I sank to my knees in despair and regret, as I lost all awareness of my surroundings, thinking only of my failures.

I know not how long I knelt there in the muck, dwelling on my incompetence and my inadequacies. Eventually, I felt a strong arm helping me up and turning me around. As I walked away, guided by what I could only hope was a friend, the images slowly began to fade. The swamp came back into my awareness, and I turned to see Domoki, walking by my side, holding my arm, and looking concerned for me.

“Ameiko will never forgive me,” I said.

“She already has,” Domoki assured me.

“You don’t know that,” I persisted. “I haven’t heard back from her. Besides, she can never truly forgive me. She doesn’t know the full truth.”

Domoki had nothing to say in response to that, but he squeezed my hand in a reassuring manner and continued to lead me away from the ghostly Pixie’s overwhelming aura of despair.

◊◊◊

By the time we exited the swamp and returned to normal forest, I had managed to shake the Pixie’s influence over my thoughts.

“So, what happened in there?” I asked. “I don’t remember a thing.”

“Myriana, that’s the Pixie that knocked you out,” explained Domoki, “wants Captain Lamatar’s remains returned to her. Only then can she rest, apparently, and then the swamp can return to life.”

“Didn’t we burn all the Rangers remains?” I asked.

“Captain Lamatar wasn’t there when the Ogres attacked, remember?”

“Oh, right,” I remembered, “so where is he?”

“From what we could gather,” said Domoki, “the Ogres have taken his body back up to their lair in Hook Mountain. What for, we don’t know.”

“So we’re going to Hook Mountain?” I asked.

“Apparently,” said Domoki. “If nothing else, there will be Ogres to slay there.”

“Domoki,” I objected, “we can’t just slay _all _the Ogres.”

“Why not?” he asked.

“Some of them are children. Some of them have done nothing wrong. We are not going to slay an entire tribe of Ogres just to satisfy your bloodlust.”

“_My_ bloodlust?” he asked. “I thought _you_ of all people would have no issue with this, you _murderer_.”

He said that last part as a joke, but it was not funny. For one, I cared too much about what Domoki thought of me, and besides, there was too much truth in it to laugh it off.

“Is that really what you think of me, Domoki?” I asked, looking him in the eye.

“No,” he admitted, realising he had crossed a line, and looking away.

“Good,” I said. “When do we leave for Hook Mountain?”

◊◊◊

The journey to Hook Mountain took two days. Edyan, still taken by his curiosity, came with us, and on the first evening, we got our first taste of his magic. We were setting up camp for the night, pitching our tents, and Edyan observed us doing this, and said,

“Really? You still sleep in tents? How barbaric.”

“Oh?” I asked. “What’s your alternative?”

Edyan raised one eyebrow sardonically, then cast a spell. In the blink of an eye, a small wooden cottage appeared in front of us. Two shuttered windows faced South, and a brick chimney peeked out from the roof, already smoking.

“Not bad,” I admitted.

“You won’t need to post watches, either,” Edyan continued. “It’s secure against intruders.”

“How secure?” asked Domoki.

“Give it a shot,” invited Edyan.

The first to attempt entry was Ulrick, who seemed to think he could pick the locks on the windows. While he did appear to know what he was doing, the windows, and the door, when he later tried that, stayed locked. Meanwhile, Domoki had landed himself on the roof with a rather impressive jump, and was now inspecting the chimney.

“There’s an iron grate in there,” he informed us, “it’s good and stuck.”

Seeming satisfied with the security of the lodging, Ulrick and Domoki returned to the group.

“Urhador,” said Edyan, “would you care to have a go at it?”

“You realize he’s an arsonist, right?” asked Domoki.

“Yes, I’m quite aware of that,” said Edyan.

Curious, I approached the cottage myself.

“Are you sure about this?” I asked Edyan. “If I burn down your lovely cottage while trying to get in, I won’t be held responsible.”

“Go ahead,” he urged.

I shrugged my shoulders and walked around until I found the driest looking spot, then, checking over my shoulder, giving Edyan one last chance to object to my attempted arson, I poured a healthy geyser of flame out of my hands and on to the cottage. I held it there for a good half a minute, and when I stopped, I removed my hands to see that the wood, or whatever it was that _appeared _to be wood, was not even scorched.

“Alright,” I admitted. “I’m impressed.”

Trying one last thing before giving up, I walked over to the door and cast a charm on the lock. There was a quiet click as the lock slid open.

“Aha!” I said.

Edyan smiled, as if not yet defeated.

I opened the door and stepped over the threshold. Suddenly, and ear-piercing screech assaulted my ears. I whirled around. Edyan waved his hand, and the alarm was silenced.

“Ok, you’ve got me,” I admitted. “It’s damn near impenetrable. We don’t need to post watches.”

I was actually slightly disappointed by this discovery. Night watch was typically the most unpopular of the watches, since it did not allow for eight hours of uninterrupted sleep, but I truly hadn’t minded it. It was dark, and peaceful, and given the company in which I had been spending it, quite pleasant. I would miss it. I couldn’t admit that though.

As we settled into the warm, furnished cottage for the night, I noticed Domoki standing at the door, looking out into the rain and evaluating his choices.

“You aren’t seriously considering sleeping out there still, are you?” I asked, walking up behind him.

“I’m a rock, Urhador,” he said. “I don’t belong indoors.”

“That’s as may be, Domoki,” I said. “But we’ve determined that it’s safe in here, and the same can’t be said of out there.” Then, noticing how protective he’d been of me lately, I decided to double down. “If you’re sleeping out there, so am I.”

“Fine,” said Domoki, almost too quickly. “I’ll sleep inside. I’m sleeping on the floor, though. Beds are weird.”

“A pity,” I said. “The beds in here are big enough for two. You could have shared mine.”

◊◊◊

Hook Mountain towered over the neighbouring mountains, reaching up almost, but not quite, to the bottoms of the dark grey clouds that still plagued the sky. When we got above the treeline, there was nothing to protect us from the rain, and we all pulled our oilskins tighter against ourselves as we forced ourselves onwards. A few Ogres attacked us here and there, as we got closer to their home, and their lives ended there, excepting those who fled when they realized our power. This informed us of our proximity to our target.

“Remember what I said about genocide?” I said to Domoki.

“Yes…” sighed Domoki. “Don’t do it.”

“That’s right,” I said. “In that case, you may have your arrows on fire.”

I cast flame arrow on his quiver, and he smiled as the faint glow settled on to them.

Finally we came upon a large cavern. After disposing of the two Ogres guarding it, we wandered in, I looked up and around to see a giant skeleton embedded in the cave walls. The rest of the creature had rotted away over the years, but its skeleton remained, and the cave seemed to have formed itself around the decaying beast as it wasted away. As we stood inside the cave, we were inside the creature’s ribcage, where its lungs would have been. Its tail curled away toward the back of the cave, deeper into the mountain. There was only one non-aquatic creature this large on all of Golarion, and everyone knew what it was.

“Wow,” I whispered, as I stopped and allowed myself to take in the sight. “I’ve always wanted to be inside a Dragon…”

Tenebis and Ulrick laughed, and as I glanced over at Domoki, I saw just a hint of a smile appear in one corner of his mouth before he wrestled it back under control. He had understood my joke. There was hope for him yet.

As we continued on toward the back of the cave, we found that this cave was only the entrance to a far more extensive network of caverns. In the first few, we found only ogres, some of whom died, and some of whom fled. I had to remind Domoki not to pursue those who tried to get away, for we were here not to slaughter ogres, but to find Captain Lamatar’s remains; to solve the mystery of the incessant rain; and to look for Lucretia. The answers to these questions were all found rather quickly.

In one small, dark cave, too small for Ogres, we found three old women; not quite human, but perhaps at one time, something close. They muttered to themselves as they stirred a large bubbling cauldron hung over a fire. In the opposite corner of the cave, a pile of bodies, most not quite intact, rotted away, stinking up the cave rather thoroughly.

One hag spotted us as we came into sight around the corner.

“Hey, sisters,” she whispered, in a gravelly voice, “we’ve got visitors!”

“Hmm,” said another, “I suppose we could add them to the pile…”

The pile of bodies twitched, and moments later, one of the dead lurched up and got to his feet. The wraith had once been human, but it was mindless now, and no spark of a soul showed it its eyes.

“I’d really rather you didn’t,” I said to the hags, as our group came fully into view. “If you’ll call of your wraith, I’m sure we can come up with some sort of mutually beneficial arrangement.”

The hags looked us up and down, sizing us up and soon seeming to agree that they were outclassed.

“What do you want?” asked the thin one.

“Are you the ones making it rain?” I asked.

“Yes…” said the short one.

“Why?” I asked.

“Barl’s orders,” answered the large one.

“Well, in that case, we’re here to kill Barl,” I explained. “You stay out of our way while we do that, and we’ll let you live.”

“Deal,” said the thin one.

“Well, that was easy,” I said.

“Yeah,” said the short one, “we don’t like Barl. Just, make sure you really do kill him, ok? Or we’ll get in trouble for helping you.”

“I assure you we will,” I said, not all sure of it myself, given I didn’t know a thing about him. “Oh, and you’ll have to stop the rain, as well.”

“Not permanently,” added Asclepius, “just back to the way it was before.”

“Yes, indeed, and important stipulation,” I reflected, “In fact, Steranis, give them a calendar. They’d better stick to it.”

“Yes, yes, I get it, rain whenever you like,” said the large one.

“Good, good,” I said. “We’ll be going then. Oh, by the way, do you know where we can find Lucretia or Captain Lamatar?”

“Lucretia’s with Barl, in his lair,” said the thin one, waving in a vague direction further down the tunnel.

“Lamatar’s right there,” said the short one, gesturing at the wraith.

“Thank you,” I said. “I’m afraid we’ll have to take him with us then. He’s needed elsewhere.”

“Awww,” complained the large one. “You spoil all our fun!”

Tenebis stepped forward and lopped the head off of the wraith, then picked up both pieces and threw them into a bag, which he tied to his pack.

“Let’s go,” he said.

◊◊◊

We continued down the stone tunnel toward Barl’s lair, and as we walked, Asclepius briefed Edyan on the situation.

“The last time we ran into Lucretia, she dimension-doored away. Is there anything you can do to stop that from happening?”

“Oh, yeah,” said Edyan. “Just, give me a few minutes.”

Edyan pulled out a spell book and started flipping through it.

“Dimensional anchor, dimensional anchor, dimensional anchor…” he muttered to himself. Soon he stopped on a page and stared at it for several minutes before closing the book and putting it away.

“I am ready,” he said.

We continued down the tunnel and rounded a corner to find ourselves in the largest cavern yet. Ledges along either side of it bore gigantic carvings of faces – stone giant faces. At the far end of the cave was an imposing throne on a raised platform, carved out of the same rock as its surroundings. A stone giant sat on the throne, flanked by two others behind him. Lucretia stood off to the side, smiling.

The giant on the throne saw us, and said something over his shoulder in Giant to his presumed bodyguards. The bodyguards advanced on us. Edyan cast a spell. I summoned my fire.

Tenebis and Steranis took on one stone giant each while I flew above their heads and threw fire down on them. Domoki seemed to resent Lucretia for having got away from him last time, and he ignored the stone giants and fired upon her. Ulrick decided that he might as well concentrate his fire with Domoki’s and it was not long before Lucretia tried her dimension door trick again. She cast her spell, and began to draw her escape in the air, but seemed flummoxed when the portal did not appear in front of her. She was trapped here with us, until either she or we were dead. I hoped for the former.

Seeing that the fight was not quickly over, the giant on the throne dragged himself to his feet to lend a hand. Edyan, as well, seemed fully invested in the outcome of this fight, and he joined me in the throwing of fireballs, of which I heartily approved.

When all was still again, three stone giants and Lucretia lay dead on the floor. Our front liners collapsed to the floor, injured and exhausted, but triumphant. Asclepius moved in to help them, and Domoki, Ulrick, Edyan and I proceeded to search the room for treasure or clues. We found both. It was Domoki who found the letter which worried me greatly and sent me rushing back home.

_Mokmurian,_

_The Ogres here are foolish, disorganized, and easily pressed into service. I have set them to work forging weapons for the war. They will make acceptable foot soldiers, though they are not suited for higher ranks. How goes your recruitment among the other giant races? I expect it will not take much. Humans are weak, and Sandpoint is exceptionally lacking in defenses._

_Lucretia_

◊◊◊

On the way out of the cave complex we encountered a few more Ogres that we had missed. We strode confidently now, covered in blood that was not our own, and the Ogres fled before us. I had to remind Domoki of our agreement to let them flee, but he respected it in the end. In the last cavern, the one with the Dragon skeleton, Asclepius wrote on the wall in blood:

_The Dragon has returned; flee to the hills!_

If any Ogres that had been out this day returned home, they would not stay long. I nodded approvingly at Asclepius as we walked outside.

The sun was shining. The rain had finally stopped. We all took a moment to appreciate the feel of the sun on our faces. After its long absences from the skies, its warmth seemed almost foreign.

◊◊◊

We stopped at the swamp to return Lamatar’s body to the ghost Pixie, Myriana. This time, when she saw us coming, she perked up a little, which was fortunate, for it meant that this time, I was not assaulted with magically enhanced despair.

“Did you bring back my Lamatar?” she asked, anxiously.

“We did,” I began. “But I’m afraid… somebody turned him into a wraith.”

Her face immediately brightened.

“No matter!” she said. “I can fix that!”

“…and then somebody chopped of his head…” I continued, neglecting to mention that that someone had been Tenebis.

“Oh, I can fix that too!” she said. “Stop talking and show him to me!”

Tenebis produced the body (and the head, separately) from his bag and laid them before the ghost.

She looked at the two pieces of him for some time, then, carefully placed his head back upon his shoulders. She laid her hands gently over his face, and, closing her eyes, she began to sing.

Nothing happened at first. Then, slowly, the wraith’s body began to change. The head melded back on to the body, the grey skin coming together from both sides and becoming one again. The grey colour seeped out of his face and was replaced with a healthy amber glow, which spread slowly throughout the rest of his body. The claws shrank back into hands. The eyes regained their colour. The fangs shrank back into normal teeth. Finally, the man’s chest began to rise and fall once more.

Her work done, the ghost of the Pixie Myriana gave one long, satisfied sigh. Her white, misty form began to fade and wobble, and then, as if by a gust of wind, blew apart into dozens of wisps which danced around each other for a moment and then dissolved into nothing. Her soul was at rest, and she no longer haunted this swamp.

Captain Lamatar opened his eyes.

“Who are you?” he asked. “Where is my love?”

◊◊◊

After a long explanation of the events that had transpired since his death, Captain Lamatar decided to remain in the swamp, taking Myriana’s place as its new guardian. The rest of us picked up our horses in Turtleback Ferry and made haste back toward Sandpoint to warn them of the upcoming giant attack.


	15. War

We drove the horses at hard as we could back towards Sandpoint. Every night, Edyan put up his magic cottage, allowing us to shorten our rest periods from the twelve hours required out of a watch schedule to eight hours. We stopped in Magnimar for a night near the end of our travels, since it was on the way. Edyan needed to give his report to the Lord Mayor, and we needed to stop and rest anyhow. I had other ideas besides resting, however.

The last time we’d been here we had chased out the Pack, those notorious Ratfolk bandits who had kidnapped Asclepius. While we were back in town, I thought I might check to make sure they were actually gone.

After checking in to the Inn, I headed back out to comb the sewers of Magnimar for Ratfolk.

“Where are you going?” asked Domoki, as I walked past him on my way out.

“Sewers,” I said.

“Gross. Why?” he asked.

“I want to make sure those Ratfolk are gone.”

“I’ll come with you,” he said.

So Domoki and I headed down to the sewers, and searched through them for hours, and found nothing but regular rats, mice, and the occasional snake. It was filthy, tedious work, but I was glad not to be doing it alone. By the time we climbed out, we were both thoroughly coated in muck and grime, and we smelled like a cross between a latrine and a week old abandoned fish market. Fortunately, I had a bit of minor magic prepared which effortlessly cleaned me off and removed the smell. Domoki watched me cast the cleaning charm and observed its effect on me.

“Oh, do me, do me!” he insisted, excitedly.

“Well, if you’re asking, alright, but I thought monks had a rule against that…” I joked.

“Against cleaning?” he asked, missing the joke entirely, or perhaps just deciding to ignore it. “No, certainly not.”

I cast the cleaning charm on him, and we began heading back to the inn.

“So, the swamp didn’t bother you, but the sewer gunk did?” I asked. “They both smelled equally bad to me.”

“The swamp was just dirt,” said Domoki. “It was nature. This is weird city guck. It’s much worse.”

“I suppose that makes sense,” I admitted.

Having verified that the Pack really was gone, I was free to visit my parents again without fear of retaliation on them.

“Well,” I said, “I think I’m going to go see my parents again. You’re welcome to come with, if you like. It’s not like they’re going to make any assumptions about us that they haven’t already made.”

“What sort of assumpt… oooohhhhh!” said Domoki, in a moment of realization. Then, after a moment, he continued. “Did that bother you?”

“Oh… um… not really, I guess. Does it bother you?”

“How could it have bothered me? I didn’t even know that assumptions were being made.”

“Right.”

“…anyway, I’ll be going, then,” he said, and quickly shuffled off.

◊◊◊

It was my mother who answered the door this time, and she looked surprised and delighted to see me again.

“Ÿridhrenor!” she exclaimed. “You never tell me when you’re coming anymore! Get inside!”

I got inside.

“Sorry, Mom,” I said, “my schedule is far less predictable than it used to be.”

“Right, yes,” she said. “I hear you’re meddling with dangerous criminals now. Hard to stay on a schedule with that, I suppose.”

“So you heard about the Pack business, then? They didn’t try to come here, did they? There’s a reason I didn’t try to visit. I didn’t want them trying any retaliation.”

“We did,” said my father, walking into the room, having heard me coming in. “And they didn’t, and we understand.”

“You need to stay away from people like that,” said Mom. “It’s dangerous.”

“Dangerous for them,” I said.

“Don’t get too full of yourself,” warned Dad. “Whatever heroics you’ve been up to lately, you’re not invincible.”

“I know that,” I said. “But I’m not the man I was only a few months ago, either. My Dragon blood is taking over. As long as I keep using my magic, it keeps getting stronger. In time, I _will _turn into a Dragon. And that’s as close to invincible as you can get without attaining godhood.”

Mom saw that I wasn’t about to back down on this, so after a long sigh, she tried to change the subject.

“So, where is Domoki?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” I said. “Probably at the inn. I don’t keep tabs on him.”

“You know he’s welcome here,” she persisted.

“Mom, I explained this last time,” I insisted. “There is nothing going on between me and Domoki. He’s a friend, and that’s all.”

“Who are you trying to convince of that?” she asked. “Me? Or yourself?”

“Lovely weather we’re having here,” I deflected.

“It’s winter,” pointed out Mom.

“Well, yes, but at least it’s not raining here. You know, it rained the whole the time I was in Turtleback Ferry. Three weeks!”

“That’s not possible,” said Dad.

“Not naturally, no. You see, there were a bunch of hags…”

◊◊◊

In the morning, we set off again for Sandpoint. Edyan joined us once again, telling us that the Lord Mayor had assigned him to join our unit and report to him on our activities. Ulrick and Domoki had bought flying carpets, leaving only Asclepius with no magical means of flight. Asclepius had instead bought a rather large basket which looked like it had belonged to a hot air balloon at one time. I was not quite sure how it was meant to work, but everyone else began to take flight, so I joined them. Asclepius climbed into the basket and waited. Steranis transformed into a pterodactyl and took off. Then, swooping down over the basket, he grabbed onto it with his talons, carrying Asclepius and the basket up and away.

Flying to Sandpoint took only two days, rather than three. When we arrived late at night, the gates were swung open for us, and before long, word had spread that we were back in town. People started to come out to greet the “heroes of Sandpoint”, returned from their latest adventure. We did not have time for pleasantries.

We marched straight to the garrison and banged on the door. After a few moments, a tired-looking night guard opened the door.

“What do you want?” he barked.

“We need to see the Sheriff,” I stated plainly.

“He’s asleep,” said the guard.

“Wake him up,” I insisted. “It’s important.”

The guard looked like he was about to argue, but then he took a second look at the somber looks on all of our faces and waved us inside. He disappeared into the back to wake the Sheriff.

A few minutes later, Sheriff Hemlock appeared, rubbing his eyes and grumbling.

“What is it?” he asked.

“There’s an army of stone giants assembling to march on Sandpoint,” I said, getting straight to the point.

“I know,” said Hemlock, “our rangers have reported as much. And I’m ever so glad you’ve returned in time. With you back in town, we might possibly stand a chance. However, I would appreciate it if we could talk about this more in the morning. The stone giants shouldn’t be here for another week at least.”

◊◊◊

I stayed at the White Deer that night, since I did not know whether I was welcome back at the Rusty Dragon, and I had no particular desire to wake Ameiko in order to find out. In the morning, after the breakfast rush, I went to see her. She was in the kitchen, cleaning up from breakfast, and I wandered in a picked up a pot to scrub before addressing her.

“Hello, Ameiko,” I said.

Ameiko looked up from her work, noticing me for the first time.

“Urhador!” she exclaimed. “When did you get back?”

“Just last night,” I said.

“I didn’t hear you coming in,” she said.

“I stayed at the White Deer.”

“Why ever would you do that?” she asked. “You know perfectly well that the Rusty Dragon is the best inn in town.”

“Wasn’t sure if I was welcome here,” I admitted. “You got my letter?”

Ameiko took a deep breath.

“I did,” she said. “And you’re still welcome here.”

I breathed out a sigh of relief.

“Urhador, I trust your judgement,” she continued. “You did what you had to do. If it hadn’t been you, it would have been the executioner. And more people might have died before it came to that.”

“Yes,” I said. “In any case, I’m sorry for your loss. I know he meant a lot to you.”

“Thank you,” she said.

“Oh,” I remembered, pulling out the bottle of ashes from my pack. “I thought you should have this. I don’t know if you want to put him in the family crypt, or…”

Ameiko accepted the bottle gingerly, holding it in the palm of her hand and turning it over.

“I’ll think about it,” she said.

“So, how have things been going around town?” I asked, after an uncomfortable silence.

“They’re… tense,” she informed me. “Ever since the rangers started coming back with reports of Giants moving about in the mountains…”

“When did that start?” I asked.

“About… two weeks ago?”

“That explains why I didn’t hear about it. We were in Turtleback Ferry.”

“What were you doing in Turtleback Ferry?”

“Oh, you know… slaying Ogres, and Trolls, and generally saving the village.”

“Well, I’m glad you came back in time to save _our _village.”

“I hope so,” I said. “I certainly hope so. That, or I’ll die trying.”

◊◊◊

That afternoon, we had a meeting with Sheriff Hemlock and Mayor Deverin. Since the first reports had come in of Giants assembling in the mountains, the people of Sandpoint had been busy fortifying the town. Walls had been strengthened, ditches had been dug, trees had been cleared, and civilians were being trained in archery. However, morale was not high. The general mood around town was one of despair, for no matter how prepared they were, a town full of humans could not hold out against an all-out attack by an army of giants. We discussed our options at length. Mayor Deverin seems to be debating between surrender and evacuation, when Tenebis suggested a much bolder option: pre-emptive strike.

“The seven of us will go to where this army is assembling. If we arrive before they are all in one place, guerilla warfare tactics will apply. We make quick, devastating strikes, we terrorize them, we destroy their morale. If we’re lucky, maybe we can find a way to sneak in to the thick of it and assassinate a general or two. Our only hope of saving this town lies in dispersing the giant army before it marches on Sandpoint.”

Mayor Deverin stared at Tenebis for a good minute, trying to determine whether or not he had gone insane. Then she looked around the table and asked,

“And are the rest of you up for this plan?”

There was no discussion. Every one of us nodded our heads in turn, even Edyan, and we knew at this point that he was truly part of the team. Mayor Deverin seemed to consider this for some time.

“At the very least, a pre-emptive strike will give the townsfolk something to hope for. And I think, at this point, that’s all we can ask for. I want to leverage this for as much morale as we can get. We’ll throw you a party before you leave on your brave mission. It’ll keep the people going.”

I hardly thought this was an appropriate time for a party, but politics had never been my strong suit. If Mayor Deverin said we needed a party, I would go to a party. I would put on my charming face, and assure everyone that we were going to save the town. It felt dishonest and slimy, but I would do it.

◊◊◊

I told Ameiko about our plan as soon as we got back to the inn. She, being more versed in politics and war than I, agreed that it was a good idea.

“So, would you like to accompany me to this party?” I asked.

“What, you’re not going with Domoki?” she asked right back.

“Well, I mean, he’s going, and I imagine he’s leaving from the same place, so technically one could say that we are going together, but…”

“Oh, shut it, Urhador,” she said. “You know what I mean.”

“What gave you impression that I would be going with Domoki?”

“I saw the way you were looking at him today,” she insisted, “… and the way _he_ was looking at _you_.”

“Was he looking at me?” I asked, perhaps a bit too eagerly.

“He was,” she asserted. “So are you going to ask him to the party?”

I thought about it for a moment.

“No, I can’t,” I said. “This party is about building morale. We have to present ourselves according to the standard hero tropes, and that means being morally blameless. I can’t show up with a man on my arm.”

“And showing up with a woman thirty years your junior is going to be so much better?” she prodded.

“Oh, come on,” I said, “everyone knows you’re like a daughter to me. They wouldn’t think…”

“And everyone _knows_ you’re gay,” she interrupted. “So what’s the big deal if you show up with Domoki?”

“People don’t like having it shoved in their faces, Ameiko. I could get away with it in Magnimar, but Sandpoint? I’m not so sure.”

“Urhador, it hurts me to see you have to hide like this.”

“Yeah,” I said. “It hurts me too. But this isn’t about me. Are you coming to the party with me or not?”

“Fine,” she said. “But promise me when you’re in a somewhat less bigoted place, you’ll ask him out.”

“Oh, I intend to,” I assured her.

◊◊◊

Ameiko accompanied me to the party, and it went about as expected. Tenebis and Ulrick were both entertaining small crowds with exaggerated stories of our previous victories. Edyan was over in a corner talking to Brodert Quink, the local historian, and trying to see if he could get any intel on giants from him. Asclepius was in the middle of a crowd of male admirers, and was acting charming as ever. Domoki was sitting at a table by himself, drinking tea. Steranis was talking to a couple of rangers, trying to get their reports on what they had seen.

“So what kind of giants were they?” he asked.

The rangers looked at each other and sort of shrugged.

“They were big, and grey…” said one of them.

“Did they look… _like this?_” asked Steranis, transforming himself into a stone giant.

A few people fainted, and the rangers, rather alarmed, nodded their heads vigorously.

“Steranis, please don’t do that!” called out Asclepius, as she revived the unconscious townspeople and helped them to their feet. “It alarms people!”

“Sorry!” called out Steranis, returning to his half-elf form. A few other spectators applauded.

◊◊◊

The next morning, as we were preparing to head out, we heard the sound of a horn blowing. It was coming from the city gates. I dropped what I was doing, grabbed Domoki, spread my wings, and flew off toward the sound. Out the corner of my eye, I saw the other flyers doing the same. When I arrived at the wall, men were dragging carts behind the gates to help barricade them against a charge. Archers swarmed up onto the battlements. As I flew over the walls and dropped off Domoki with the civilian archers, I got my first glimpse of what the commotion was about. Four stone giants were emerging from the trees 200 feet away, and they had begun to throw rocks at the walls as they advanced. The stone giants had remarkable range on their throws, and the thrown rocks were already impacting the walls, though they were holding for now.

Tenebis flew past me, dropping Ulrick off on the wall, flew right up to the stone giants and landed in front of them. Tenebis was strong, but not that strong, and even I knew that he could not take on four stone giants at once and live. Nor could I, Domoki, and Ulrick, kill the stone giants before they killed our man. I needed to distract them. Thinking quickly, I cast an illusion, and in the air in front of the stone giants appeared a glowing, scintillating, rainbow hued pattern of interweaving colours. The illusion was meant to fascinate, and as I reached out towards them, I felt my magic worming its way into their minds and grabbing hold of them. Two of the stone giants managed to fight it off, but the other two were seized by the spell and began to advance slowly towards the rainbow pattern, oblivious to everything else around them. I knew if they were shot, they would snap out of it immediately, so, swooping back down toward the wall, I yelled to the archers:

“Don’t shoot the stupid ones!”

“Copy that!” acknowledged Domoki, as he switched over to targeting the two that remained in front of Tenebis.

In this manner, Tenebis survived his foolish charge, and as we finished off first the smart giants and then the stupid ones, I found myself wondering where Steranis, Edyan, and Asclepius had gotten to. Flying up a little higher, I spotted an unusual mass of thorny bushes that had grown over the land in front of Tanner’s Bridge. I did not remember that being there before, but as I looked closer, I saw Steranis standing on the bridge and beating up more giants as they emerged, bloodied and exhausted, from his maze of thorns. I think there was a dire bear or two caught in the thorns as well, but I couldn’t be sure. It appeared Steranis had that point of ingress under control.

Seeing that the giants here were very nearly dead, Tenebis was out of danger, and the archers were doing an excellent job, I headed off towards Sandpoint Bridge, from whence I heard the sound of giants yelling. Edyan joined me on the way, and when we got to market square, we saw four more stone giants with large leather bags slung over their shoulders. The giants were stopped in front of the brewery, banging loudly on the door, and chanting: “Beer or death! Beer or death!”. The bags that the giants held were moving, and clearly contained people.

Edyan snapped his fingers and suddenly he was gone in a whirlwind of gale force winds. The whirlwind descended upon two of the giants, and tried my distraction tactic on the other two. One of them was taken by it, but the other shrugged it off and stared back at me, continuing his chant: “Beer or death! Beer or… death?”

“Drop the bag and run, and I will let you live!” I called out, reaching out in my mind’s eye towards him with a tendril of fear. The giant turned to me and laughed.

“Really? You’re going to make me kill you? Fine then. Have it your way. Death it is.”

I aimed my fire very carefully at the giant, taking care to avoid his bag of prisoners, and let loose. The giant had time to throw a few rocks at me before he died, and one of them hit me, but it was not long before I swooped down to where he had been, cut open the leather bag, and helped the prisoners out. I was just beginning to think that we had covered all possible ingress points into the city when I heard a terrifying roar erupt behind me. Flying in a tight circle around the garrison and breathing out a tongue of flame was a young red Dragon.

I had never seen a proper Dragon before, but I hadn’t time to gawk. The garrison itself was made of stone, and would not catch, but the surrounding buildings were wooden, and were already beginning to flare up. Domoki and Tenebis were already there, and they were losing fast.

“Red Dragons are immune to fire!” yelled Edyan, after finishing off the stone giants he had been buffeting and returning to humanoid form. “I hope you have something else up your sleeve!”

I took flight once more and charged toward the Dragon. In the time it took me to get across town to the garrison, the Dragon noticed it was being poked full of holes, and swooped down and attacked Domoki. Domoki fell to the Dragons claws. A renewed burst of anger surged up inside me, and I pulled a scroll out from my belt as I neared the Dragon. Casting from the scroll, I threw out a cone of cold upon the beast, and I saw it shiver as the magic hit. Its translucent wings were for a moment covered in visible frost, and it roared in anguish at the pathetic imitation of a Dragon that had done this to it. Tenebis got in one more hit to the Dragon’s scaled neck before it gave up its circling and flew away to the North. I could not keep up with its speed, so instead I yelled out “Coward!” in Draconic before landing on the roof of the garrison next to Domoki.

He opened one eye.

“I’m alive!” he assured me, in a pained voice.

“Thank you,” I said. “That’s quite the relief. It was _such _a bother last time to convince Asclepius to bring you back.”

“Is everything under control?”

I looked around.

“I think so,” I answered. “I presume you finished off the giants at the front gate. Steranis took care of Tanner’s bridge, and Edyan and I dealt with Sandpoint bridge. Sad to say, the Dragon got away.”

Just as I finished this summary, I noticed a tendril of smoke rising from Scarnetti Manor on the other side of the harbour. One last pair of stone giants was running away from it into the woods.

“Got enough in you for two more?” I asked.

“No, you go ahead,” he said. “I need healing. I’ll wait for Asclepius here, and catch up later.”

I hesitated to leave Domoki alone and wounded, but Asclepius arrived rather quickly, at which point Tenebis and I flew off to the South to deal with the last pair of giants.

It didn’t take much. As we approached overhead, one of the giants spotted us, and rather than picking up rocks and throwing them, as they had before, these two giants dropped their bags and surrendered.

“Do you speak the common tongue?” I asked.

The giants nodded.

I landed in front of them.

“I’m going to go through your bags.”

The bags were not moving, but I was still concerned there might be unconscious prisoners inside. Looking through them, though, I found nothing of the sort. These giants were merely stealing valuables from Scarnetti Manor. They seemed to have missed any safes, however, because while the items in the bags were of good quality – silverware, jewelry, watches, fine clothing, some tapestries and a couple snow globes – I was certain it did not make up more than a tenth of the Scarnetti family fortune.

“Tell you what – ” I said, “The Scarnettis can afford it. I’ll let you keep this stuff if you answer my questions.”

The giants, their arms still high in the air, nodded vigorously.

“Where are you from?” I began.

“The gathering at Jorgenfist.”

“What was your mission?”

“Advance shock troops. Terrorize the town. Take prisoners,” reported the giant.

“That didn’t go so well, did it?”

“No. I am filled with shame. The small ones have defeated us, and even scared away the great Dragon Longtooth,” admitted the other giant.

“We were told there would be no resistance to our attack,” said the first.

“Then it seems that this Mokmurian fellow is not as well informed as he might have thought he was.”

The giants seemed surprised that I knew the name of their leader.

“When is the main attack scheduled?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” answered a giant. “Still more tribes arriving at Jorgenfist when we left a week ago.”

“Are you going back to Jorgenfist now?”

“No. There is too much shame. We would be killed for our failure.”

“Where will you go?”

“Far away. Perhaps find another tribe that knows nothing of our failure here.”

“Very well,” I said. “Go. If I see you in Varisia again, I will kill you.”

The giants snatched up their bags and ran.

“Enjoy your snow globes!” I called after them.

◊◊◊

The seven of us sat around a table with Mayor Deverin and Sheriff Hemlock, piecing together the aftermath of the battle. It had been frantic, with giants coming in from every which way, and the Dragon on top of that, so none of us had the full story. However, Sheriff Hemlock reported that all of his guardsmen were accounted for, and neither the mayor nor the Sheriff had yet received any reports of civilian fatalities. A number of people had been injured, either by thrown rocks, by being in a giant’s way, or by being inside a building which the Dragon had set afire, but by and large, it seemed that the giants had not been trying to kill.

That begged the question of what their mission actually _was_, and Mayor Deverin was very interested in hearing our opinions on that.

“I caught up with one of the giants after the fight, and convinced him to talk,” I admitted. “He said they were advance shock troops, sent to terrorize the town and take prisoners.”

“What did they want prisoners for?” she asked.

“I don’t know. I don’t think he knew either. I got the impression he wasn’t very high ranking.”

“The only reason I can think of for giants to take any interest at all in a town like Sandpoint,” reasoned Edyan, “is because of the Runewell.”

“But most of the people of Sandpoint don’t even _know_ about the Runewell,” I pointed out.

“Do you think the giants know that?” asked Edyan.

“Point taken.”

“What happened to the stone giant you got talking? Do you still have him?” asked Hemlock.

“No,” I said. “He got away.”

Tenebis glanced at me out the corner of his eye, trying to decide whether to let my half-truth stand. Domoki twitched.

“A shame,” said Hemlock. “What else did you get out of him?”

“The giants are still assembling at a place called Jorgenfist. He doesn’t know when they plan to march, but I expect it will be soon after the advance troops are discovered not to have returned.”

“How do you know that the one you questioned won’t return to Jorgenfist?”

“Mokmurian – that’s their general – would kill him for his failure. He’s going as far in the other direction as he can.”

“Very well,” answered Hemlock. “When will you leave for your counter-attack?”


	16. Assassins

The next morning, we left town at dawn. A number of townsfolk had come out to see us off, and it felt rather like a parade as we flew right over the city gates to the cheers of the now hopeful populace. I was happy to see that Ameiko was among those there to see us off, and I landed in front of her to give her a proper goodbye before disappearing.

“Don’t die out there, Urhador,” she said, once she had released me from her hug. “You’re the only family I have left.”

I felt a tear forming in my eye as she called me family, accompanied immediately by the surge of guilt I felt for keeping the truth from her.

“Don’t you worry about that, Ameiko,” I assured her. “Asclepius can take care of that now. I promise if I die, I’ll come right back.”

Ameiko smiled a half smile, for she knew as well as I did that was not as much of a certainty as I made it out to be. Asclepius could only bring me back if _she_ was still alive, so if we _all _got ourselves killed, as seemed plausible, that wouldn’t do any good.

“That’s reassuring,” she said. “Now go save the world.”

“I’m hardly saving the whole world, Ameiko,” I protested. “Just our little corner of it.”

“Yeah, whatever,” she said. “Go save it anyway.”

“I love you, Ameiko,” I said, then planted a kiss on her forehead and took wing.

◊◊◊

As Sandpoint faded behind, Domoki flew up alongside me with a question.

“Urhador, why did you lie to the Sheriff?”

“Well, I didn’t _lie_, exactly…”

“You did not tell the full truth. What really happened with the giants you questioned?”

“They were terrified. I judged the best way to get them to talk would be to promise them their freedom in exchange for answers. If I had brought them in, they would be subject to the Sheriff’s interrogation techniques, which are more brutal, and, I personally believe, less effective.”

“…and?” prompted Domoki, indicating that he still knew I was holding something back.

“…and they were stealing from the Scarnetti’s, whom I believe deserved it. I didn’t feel any particular desire for the Scarnetti’s to get their stuff back.”

“Who are the Scarnetti’s again?”

“They were our prime suspects in that series of murders, before we caught on to Foxglove, remember? Crooks, the lot of them. White collar criminals. Like to keep their hands clean while collecting dirty money.”

“Oh, yes, I remember now. Nevertheless, I am uncomfortable with you lying to the Sheriff.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Domoki.”

Domoki frowned, and, seeing as he wasn’t getting an apology out of me, flew off and rode next to Asclepius for the rest of the day.

◊◊◊

That night, I dreamed of Dragons and giants and powerful magic. As I dreamt, my thoughts came to me in Draconic, as they always had, but now also sometimes in Celestial, in Giant, in Thassilonian. It seemed that stored away within my genetic memory were more languages than just Draconic, and when I woke and concentrated, I found I could speak almost any language I could think of. This was a very exciting new development, which I decided to keep to myself for the time being.

The flight to the Iron Peaks was largely uneventful. We were at one point attacked by some air elementals who had been hiding in a cloud, but Edyan, after transforming into his tornado form, was able to find some common ground with them and talk them down.

When we got into the mountains, we began to get our first sightings of the giants on their way to Jorgenfist. They travelled in small groups of five or six, clearly sticking to their own tribes and avoiding each other as best they could. In the evening, when we made camp, Edyan and Steranis told us what they knew of stone giants, and we strategized.

“Stone giants, unlike Ogres and Trolls, are rather intelligent, social creatures,” said Edyan.

“The Stone Giant tribes may not like to work together, but I assure you that they are capable of it,” said Steranis. “They will be organized.”

“Their leaders tend to be Sorcerers,” said Edyan, “so you and I, Urhador, will need to focus on countering their magic while the rest of the boys cut them down.”

“Very well,” I said. “I propose we start attacking them now before they consolidate their forces. If we’re quick enough, we might be able to cut off Mokmurian’s supply of soldiers, or at least hamper it enough to force him into a parley.”

“And what do you expect to get out of a parley with Mokmurian?” asked Tenebis.

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “We don’t know what he wants out of Sandpoint, but unlike Edyan, I don’t expect it’s the Runewell. As far as we know, all the Runewell does is create sinspawn. Stone giants are scarier than sinspawn, so given that he already has an army of stone giants, using it to obtain an army of sinspawn would be silly. So either the Runewell does something else that we haven’t discovered yet, or he’s after something other than the Runewell, or he’s working for someone else. Either way, I think I can get some of that information out of him.”

“So the question is, is the information you think you can get out of Mokmurian in a parley worth giving up the element of surprise?” asked Tenebis.

“Well, I don’t know,” I said. “What’s your plan and how does it use the element of surprise? I certainly hope it’s something other than a full on frontal assault, because we would be torn to pieces.”

“Well, I haven’t seen their camp yet,” admitted Tenebis, “but I was hoping we could sneak in and assassinate Mokmurian without having to fight the main body of his army.”

“That’s a plan I can get behind,” said Ulrick.

“It’s worth a shot,” said Edyan.

“I am in favor,” said Steranis.

Domoki nodded.

Asclepius smiled.

“Very well,” I said. “We’ll wait until we get a good look at their camp, and then decide whether there’s a reasonable chance of getting to Mokmurian. If not, we come back out here and do it my way.”

With this agreed on, the others began to slowly fall away from the campfire and retire to Edyan’s magic cottage. Domoki and I were the last ones left outside, me playing with the fire, him brewing his last cup of tea before bed.

“For the record, I thought your plan was good,” he said. “The others underestimate the value of knowledge.”

“Thank you, Domoki, that means a lot to me,” I said, in Terran, his native tongue. “I think Asclepius could’ve been coerced over to our side as well, if I’d pushed it, but the last thing our group needs right now is an argument to drive us apart. I let Joanos get the better of me, in that regard, but now that he’s gone, perhaps we can all get along. To that end, I’m willing to choose my battles.”

“I’m lucky I have such a smart Dragon for a friend,” said Domoki.

“Well, I’m flattered, Domoki,” I said, “but you know I’m not _really_ a Dragon.”

“Not _yet_,” he pointed out.

If I was not mistaken, Domoki was figuring out how to flirt. This merited encouragement.

“That’s cute, Domoki,” I said. “_You’re_ cute.”

Domoki’s face turned a brighter shade of grey, almost white. Was he blushing? I hadn’t time to figure it out, because he quickly turned away, hiding his face, and pulled out a quiver of arrows to count.

“You already counted those arrows today, Domoki,” I pointed out. “You and I both know that there are 37 of them.”

Domoki kept counting.

“Also, when did you learn to speak Terran?” he asked.

“Just recently,” I said. “I thought you might appreciate not having to speak a foreign language _all_ of the time.”

“That’s much appreciated,” said Domoki. “Did you learn it the hard way, or did you use one of those Dragon memory hacks?”

“I will admit to the Dragon memory hack,” I said.

Domoki laughed.

“It’s still nice of you to make the effort. You sound good when you speak it.”

◊◊◊

We followed the scattered groups of giants toward their meeting place, keeping our distance so as not to lose the element of surprise. Following the giant’s lazy, meandering paths through the mountains slowed us down a little, but this was unavoidable as we did not actually know exactly where we were going (Jorgenfist was not found on any of the maps at The Way North, so until we caught up with these giants, we were just following a general direction prescribed by Edyan.) The groups of giants we were following were mostly stone giants, but we had also seen groups of hill giants and ogres making their way in the same direction. It seemed the call to arms had gone out far and wide across the Iron Peaks.

When evening came, and we made “camp,” I found that Domoki once again stayed up by the fire with me after the others had gone to bed. I didn’t buy his “making tea” excuse – there had been plenty of time to make tea when everyone was present. As such, I could only surmise that he was doing this to spend time with me.

“Domoki, you’re looking rather tense,” I said. “Are you sure that flying carpet travel agrees with you?”

“Ki mat,” he said.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“It’s not a flying carpet, it’s a ki mat.”

“Oh,” I said. “Are you sure that ki mat travel agrees with you?”

“It’s nerve-wracking,” he admitted, “especially when we fly over large bodies of water. Being that high is hard to get used to. It was fine when we went flying together at Skull’s Crossing. You were holding on to me, and I felt safe in your arms. Despite your teasing, I knew you wouldn’t drop me. On the ki mat, I feel like I have to hold on all the time.”

“Well, I’d offer to carry you,” I said, “but I don’t think I can keep that up all day. I _can_ offer you a massage though. See if I can’t work some of that stress out of your back.”

“Oh, um… sure,” said Domoki, a bit hesitantly.

I took my place behind him and slowly began working the knots out of his back. His skin was cool in the evening breeze, and his muscles rippled beneath my fingers as they let go of their tension. Domoki gradually turned to putty in my hands. He had put down his teacup on the ground next to him, and his hands were folded in his lap, his eyes closed. I leaned in to plant a kiss on the back of his neck, but when he felt my breath on his skin, I felt him tense up again under my fingers. I backed away in respect of his unspoken ‘no’.

“Well, I should turn in,” I said, getting to my feet. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” said Domoki. “Thank you for the massage.”

I couldn’t see his face, but I was certain he was blushing again.

◊◊◊

On our fourth day flying, we found Jorgenfist. As we crested the long, ridged peak of a mountain, a wide, flat valley stretched out before us. We quickly landed to avoid being seen, for the valley was full of giants. From our perch atop the mountain, we surveyed the valley below.

In the center of the valley floor was a fortress, ancient and formidable. The outer wall stood fifty feet high and was punctuated by five watchtowers spaced out around its perimeter. In the center of the structure, a great black spire towered over the outer walls, dwarfing the five smaller watchtowers. Three low stone buildings were clustered around the black spire.

Outside of the fortress walls, an army was encamped. Tents, yurts, and other temporary shelters filled the rest of the valley, sheltering Mokmurian’s army. Giants could be seen moving about within the camps, and tendrils of smoke rose from campfires where they were cooking their food and tempering their steel. There seemed to be seven distinct camps within the army, and no one could be seen moving between them.

The valley was surrounded on three sides by mountains, and on the fourth, a cliff face dropped away to a rushing river hundreds of feet below.

Asclepius turned herself invisible.

“Pigeon?” called out Domoki, unsure as to where she’d gone.

“I’m right here,” I heard her voice whisper back.

“What are you doing?” asked Domoki.

“Scouting,” replied Asclepius’ voice.

“Don’t go alone!” protested Domoki. “You should take someone with you!”

But there was no response. Asclepius was gone.

◊◊◊

We watched the camps closely from our mountain top vantage point for any sign of a disturbance. Anything out of the ordinary, I reasoned, could be an indication that Asclepius had been caught, and we would need to rush in and try to save her. After about an hour’s wait, I saw something moving on the mountain opposite us. It was crawling out of a cave, and after sniffing the air a few times, it launched itself off of the mountain and took flight. I recognized the red Dragon that had attacked Sandpoint and fled. The Dragon circled the valley a few times, surveying those below. But the camps seemed to pay it no heed, as if they were used to it. Soon the Dragon returned to its cave, and the giants went about their business, and Domoki got twitchier and twitchier as his concern for Asclepius grew more and more evident.

“Domoki, if she’d been caught, we would have noticed something,” I pointed out. “I’m sure she’s fine.”

“Then why is she taking so long?”

“Probably because she’s trying to move quietly.”

“You are precisely correct,” whispered Asclepius’ voice no more than a foot from my ear.

“Pigeon!” exclaimed Domoki. “You’re back!”

Asclepius became visible again at this point in order to brief us on her findings. As she pointed out the seven camps, one by one, she gave us estimates of their strength.

“Camp 1: Hill Giants; about thirty of them; mostly men. Camp 2: Ogres; forty to fifty of them; I don’t think they’re all from the same tribe; they squabble. Camp 3… We’ll get back to that one; that’s the one I’m most concerned about. Camp 4: Twenty Stone Giants; mostly male; they’ve got some melee types and some archers as well. Camp 5: Another twenty or so Stone Giants; again, mostly male; these ones are a bickering lot, loud and obnoxious; we could probably play them again the Ogres. Camp 6: Only six Stone Giants there at the moment, all men, but tents for a lot more; they’re probably out hunting or something. Camp 7: About thirty Stone Giants, roughly half are female; these ones have their elders with them, and some children, and their structures look a little more permanent than the others; this tribe might actually live here permanently.”

“What’s at camp 3?”

“Only ten stone giants, all female.”

“Shit,” said Tenebis.

“Why is that the one we’re most concerned about?” asked Ulrick.

“All the other Stone Giant tribes, except the ones who seem to live here permanently, sent mostly men,” I explained. “From that I think we can gather that Stone Giants follow the typical humanoid pattern wherein the men are physically stronger than the women. But here we have the tribe at camp three who has sent exclusively women. That tells me they’re not grunts. They’re magi.”

“Exactly,” said Asclepius.

“I _hate_ casters,” said Domoki.

I turned my head to glare at him, raising one eyebrow.

“No, I mean I hate _fighting_ casters!” he blurted out, in correction. “I _love_ having them on my team.” Domoki turned away, embarrassed, and I chuckled.

“It’s ok, Domoki,” I reassured him. “I know what you meant.”

“In any case, I think it’s safe to say that we can’t defeat this army in combat,” said Edyan. “Even if we were only fighting one camp at a time, I don’t think we could handle it, and it’s far from guaranteed that they won’t come to each other’s aid.”

“So, how do we sneak into the fortress and assassinate Mokmurian?” asked Ulrick.

“I don’t know,” I said. “But first I want to go talk to that Dragon, and see if we can’t convince him to stay out of it.”

“Do you have a plan?” asked Edyan.

“Of course I have a plan,” I said. “I _always_ have a plan.”

Domoki chuckled.

“Well, are you coming or, not?” I asked. “I’ll be using intimidation on this one, so the more, the merrier.”

It turned out everyone was coming. We took the long way around the valley to the other side, ducking behind peaks to keep anyone in the valley from seeing us. We weren’t sure how closely they were watching their surroundings, but one can’t be too careful. I took the lead and flew into the Dragon’s cavern with my allies behind me.

We flew down a tunnel and soon came to a large cave full of treasure. Coins were piled deep, completely obscuring the floor of the cave, and various gems, statues, and other valuables glinted in the light which trickled in through the perforated stone ceiling. In the back of the cave, curled up on the thickest part of the gigantic pile of coins, was the red Dragon Longtooth.

“Longtooth!” I called out, in Draconic.

“Oh hello,” he said, in a smooth, surprisingly quiet voice. “It’s you again.”

“You attacked my village,” I said. “Do you understand what a mistake that was? That would be like me stealing from your hoard.”

“A village is not like a hoard at all,” he mused. “No. I have many villages, and I don’t think I’d care in the least if you attacked one of them. I can always get another.”

“Well, yes, that doesn’t surprise me. But when you say ‘my village’ you’re talking about one that you make a hobby out of terrorizing, and when I say ‘my village’ I am talking about my home. It’s quite different.”

“Yes, perhaps. I suppose for small folk like you, a village means quite a lot more.”

“Be careful,” I warned. I flicked out my claws and breathed out a puff of fire. “The blood of our ancestors runs through my veins. I am more powerful than I look.”

Longtooth laughed.

“Your blood is weak,” he said.

“It grows stronger every day,” I said. “You know what I can do to you, and you’ve seen my friends in combat. Not all of them were fighting you at Sandpoint, but we are all here now. You may count yourself lucky that we are not here to kill you. We are here to kill Stone Giants, for our people are at war now. Our conflict with the Stone Giants really needn’t concern you, though. If you can commit to staying out of our way while we settle things with the Stone Giants, we will let you live and keep your hoard. If you cannot, we will have to attack you, and then you will either die, or you will be forced to flee, leaving your hoard behind. So what will it be?”

“I have another proposal,” said Longtooth.

“Go on…”

“See, if I promise you that I won’t interfere with your attack on the giants, then I become invested in the outcome of that attack. If you lose, I will get in trouble for letting you succeed, and if you win, I have no way of knowing that you won’t come back later and try to attack me and take my hoard. So I think, instead, it would be better for me to leave entirely, and then I needn’t concern myself with what happens between you and the giants. But before I go, I have something you need, and you have something I need.”

“Oh?” I asked, curious as to where this was going.

“I have information for you on how to get into the fortress.”

“And what is it that we have, that you need?”

“Opposable thumbs.”

“Begging your pardon?”

“I need your help packing up my hoard. It’s ever so difficult with claws.”

“I see,” I answered, trying not to laugh.

“Not all of it, of course, the coins and such are easily replaceable. Just a few of my nicer artifacts that I’d like to take with me.”

Longtooth rooted around in his pile of coins for a minute with his snout, the pulled out a rather ragged looking backpack that looked like it would fit him and placed it in front of me.

“Fine,” I said. “We have a deal. How do we get into the fortress?”

“The cliff leading down to the river. There are some caves in it. There’s a secret passage that leads into the basement of the fort.”

“Very well. What do you want packed up?”

Longtooth pointed out a number of artifacts to place into the bag. The bag turned out to be larger on the inside, so I was in fact able to fit a good portion of the Dragon’s hoard into it, though the bulky things like coins remained.

“What defenses are employed at the cave entrances?” I asked, before giving him back his bag.

“There’s giant spiders in the top one. Wyverns in the other. Good eating, those wyverns. Either cave will connect you to the black spire.”

“Thank you,” I said, glancing back at Domoki.

“I’ve never tried to read a Dragon before,” whispered Domoki, “And I don’t know the language you are speaking!”

“Could you repeat that in the common tongue for my friends?” I asked, sweetly, to the Dragon.

Longtooth sighed, and repeated his information in Taldane. Domoki nodded.

“Very well,” I said. “You appear to be telling the truth.”

Tenebis flew up and took the backpack from me, approaching the Dragon and helping him put it on.

“By the way,” added Longtooth, “Most of the Giants outside the fortress are not allowed inside the fortress. Mokmurian is paranoid about mutiny. So once you’re in, you needn’t worry about the army.”

“Thank you for your help, Longtooth,” I said, in Draconic again. “If I see you again, I expect I shall kill you.”

“Same to you,” said Longtooth, courteously, and with that he took flight and escaped through one of the shafts in the ceiling.

“Well, that went better than expected,” I said, as Tenebis began shovelling coins into his own bag.

Edyan was still staring at the spot where Longtooth had been moments ago. I followed his gaze to find a small silver coloured statue lying in the coins. As I moved towards it to get a better look, I discovered that it was not made of silver, but rather platinum. Platinum is ridiculously expensive, and I wondered why Longtooth had not taken this with him.

“That is a statue of the Runelord Karzoug,” said Edyan, “Runelord of Greed. Longtooth is sending us a message.”

◊◊◊

Our next stops after leaving Longtooth’s cave were the wyvern and spider caves that he had told us about. When we arrived at the cliff-face I was happy to find that he had been telling the truth (at least about that much). Two large cave entrances were visible, one completely covered over with a thick carpet of spider webs.

“I’d like to recommend the wyvern caves,” said Domoki. “We’ve had one too many giant spiders in this adventure already.”

“Seriously, Domoki? First water, and now spiders?” I teased. “What kind of a hero are you?”

“Well, you can go kill them if you’d like,” said Domoki, “but I’d rather stay out of it if it’s all the same to you.”

As far as I was concerned, giant spiders had no right to continue existing, so I flew over and tossed a couple of fireballs into the spider cave. The smell of burning webs assaulted my nostrils, but before long the spider cave was cleared of both spiders and webs and all that remained was a foul smelling, slightly sticky residue.

I flew back over to the group.

“You’re my hero,” said Domoki, with a smile.

I winked, and blew a kiss his way. He blushed and turned away.

“I still think we should deal with the wyverns,” said Tenebis.

“What did they ever do to you, Tenebis?” I asked. “Let them be.”

“They eat people,” said Tenebis.

“Oh, okay,” I said. “Good enough for me. Let’s go kill them.”

We killed the wyverns, and, true to Longtooth’s word, found a passage at the back of the cave leading deep underground.

We followed the narrow tunnel in single file as it burrowed into the earth. As we forged deeper into the rock, the air in the tunnel became heavier, moister, and the tunnel walls glistened in the dim light cast from the end of my staff. Drops of water fell from the ceiling, and the sound echoed back and forth with an eerie clarity.

The tunnel ended abruptly in a heavy stone door which was locked. I slipped past Steranis and Tenebis and placed my hand flat against the surface of the door. I whispered the words of a spell as I mentally reached through the door to find the lock mechanism. Soon I heard the satisfying click as the deadbolt on the other side slid into the open position. I opened the door and waved Tenebis through.

Beyond the door, the tunnel opened out into a deep pit with a wide ledge spiralling around it into the darkness below. I cast light on a pebble and tossed it down into the pit to see how deep it was. The pebble fell and fell and fell until the light was so dim that I could no longer tell if it had hit the bottom, or if it was still moving. Shuffling back from the edge, I returned the light to the tip of my staff and moved on. It was a good thing I could fly, or the long drop would have me worried. A cave opened up to our right, and Tenebis leaned in to see what it contained.

“Dire Bears,” he whispered. “They’re asleep.”

“Do we kill them, or do we sneak past?” whispered Eydan.

“I don’t _like_ to leave threats behind me,” argued Tenebis, “it leads to the possibility of being trapped between two foes and unable to retreat.”

“When did you add the word _‘retreat’_ to your vocabulary?” I hissed.

“Very funny,” he answered.

“They’re asleep,” whispered Steranis. “I refuse to kill a defenseless creature. They have done nothing to us.”

“I will bring up the rear,” said Domoki, “and shoot them if they try to come after us. Let us leave them and go on.”

I hated the thought of Domoki being the first line of defense against a group of dire bears, but I equally hated the idea of murdering them in their sleep. I kept quiet as we snuck past the dire bears and continued on.

Out from another passageway stepped an elderly Stone Giant, blocking our way. I almost reflexively attacked, but was able to stop myself when I saw that her hands were open and raised, palms up, to show that she was unarmed.

“I don’t have much time,” she whispered, in Taldane, “but know that if you are here to slay Mokmurian, I am your ally. Come with me to a place we can speak in peace, for I would aid you in your quarrel here—without my assistance you might find only your graves below Jorgenfist.”

Everyone turned to Domoki, who nodded, and we followed the Stone Giant down a side tunnel. As we moved down the tunnel, the raucous sound of Stone Giant laugher echoed through the hall. A large open cavern to our left appeared to be in use as a mess hall. A dozen young male Stone Giants sat at tables pounding back mugs of ale, telling jokes, and arm wrestling. As our guide approached this room, her gait changed from a confident stride to a slow, plodding shuffle. She hunched over her walking stick and pretended to lean on it.

“Go, go, go,” she whispered, as she blocked the doorway. The young giants paid no attention to their elder as she slowly shuffled past. We quickly snuck past the doorway, using her as cover to avoid being seen. When we had passed the doorway, she resumed her normal walking pace.

“I see that you encourage your people to underestimate you,” I whispered. “That is wise.”

She smiled a half smile and walked on and soon we came to a small empty cave. Inside this cave was a small shrine. The walls of the cave were painted with murals. Giants were shown hunting mammoths, elk, deer, and wyverns. Other scenes depicted battles between races: Humans, Ogres, and Dwarves being crushed underfoot by Giants of exaggerated size. Antlers, hooves, and furs were piled up before an altar. The giant sat down on the ground and invited us to do the same.

“Here we can talk in peace,” she said. “I am Conna the Wise.”

Just as she spoke, something moved in the corner of my eye. It seemed, for a second, that one of the paintings on the wall was moving. I turned my head to get a closer look, and it stopped just as abruptly, but I was quite certain that the giant painted on the wall had thrown a spear.

Conna laughed.

“That is just my husband,” she said. “His ghost haunts this shrine, and he likes to play with the paintings. As a result, the other giants give this place a wide berth. That is how I know we will not be disturbed here. So… Why have you come?”

“As you suspected, we have come to assassinate Mokmurian,” I said.

“Excellent,” she said. “While I cannot openly oppose him, I can assure you that I and the rest of the elders will be happy to see him deposed. He has led our people into a senseless war, and though we do not cower from battle, none of us sees what is to be gained from this conflict.”

“So do we have your word, then, that if we depose Mokmurian for you, you will disperse the army above us, and abandon plans to march on Sandpoint?”

“I will not be in charge,” she admitted. “But I know the chain of command quite well, and I can tell you who to kill and who to leave in place in order to give our tribe the best chance of a peaceful future.”

“Very well then,” I said, “go on.”

Conna pulled an empty scroll out of her belt and unrolled it on the surface of the altar. On it, she sketched the layout of the caves.

“Can any of you fly?” she asked.

“That’s how we got here,” I answered.

“Good. In that case, you can avoid the Northwest passages entirely, which will greatly increase your chances of survival. I suggest you go across the pit. On the other side of the pit,” she said, pointing to a small cave on the map, “you will find Galenmir, Mokmurian’s second in command. Kill him if you like, or not, it doesn’t bother me either way. He will follow whoever ends up in charge, and won’t try to become chief himself. In any case, you have to get past him.

“Turn left down this corridor,” she continued, tracing her finger along the map, “you’ll have to deal with some Kobolds or something like that – they’re not really with us, do as you like with them. There will be half a dozen stone giants in each of these rooms,” she indicated a couple of side caves off of the main corridor, “and if you could get past those without killing them, I would be grateful. They have no influence within the tribe, they’re just grunts.

“Then continue through here, past the entrance to the Northwest passages, and try not to be seen. The residents of the Northwest passages will need to be killed eventually, they side with Mokmurian, but if you try to kill them before you get to him, they might alert him to the danger. Once you’re past that, you’ll head down this passage to the library level. At that point you will probably have to kill everything in your path. There is only one way in from there on, and it’s well guarded.”

Conna got to the end of her set of directions and rolled up the map, handing it to Asclepius who had been eyeing it the most intently.

“Good luck.”

“Thank you for your help,” I said. “We will be on our way now.”

“Hold on,” said Conna, holding up one hand. “Not so fast. I have one more thing for you.”

Conna reached behind the altar and produced an intricately patterned adamantine scroll case. The surface was ringed by six rotating rings, each with a number Thassilonian runes carved into them. It appeared to be some sort of intricate lock. I gave my unlock charm a shot, but nothing happened, so I handed it off to Edyan. Edyan inspected it carefully and thought for some time before beginning to rotate the rings into place.

“What’s inside?” I asked Conna, as Edyan slowly but methodically worked on the lock.

“I don’t know,” she said. “But Mokmurian keeps it locked for a reason, I’m sure, so I thought it would be worth stealing for you.”

“Much appreciated,” I said.

Before too long, Edyan had solved the puzzle on the combination lock and the scroll case slid open to reveal a thick bundle of scrolls written on wyvern hide.

Edyan handled them very carefully, as they seemed fragile due to their age. He read through each and sorted them into three piles before explaining.

“These ones are descriptions of curses,” he said, rolling the first pile up and placing it back in the scroll case.

“These ones are divine spells,” he continued, handing the second pile to Asclepius.

The third pile contained only one scroll.

“This is our key to the library,” he finished, almost reverently, “the password to open the great brass doors to the knowledge of the ages.”

Edyan carefully rolled up this last scroll and packed it away in his own scroll case, and we stood up to be on our way.

◊◊◊

Conna led us back out towards the pit, replicating her ‘old, frail woman’ trick to get us past the mess hall again, then left us.

We reached the end of the tunnel, Asclepius turned herself invisible, and we flew out over the pit. Everyone drew their weapons, and we rushed the entrance to Galenmir’s cave and attacked. Galenmir fought back, but he was not winning. As soon as his resolve began to flag, I flew up over Tenebis’ shoulder and addressed him.

“Galenmir!” I cried out in a loud, unflinching voice, as my right arm traced through the motions of a fear spell behind Tenebis’ back. “We are Mokmurian’s death! Flee or die!”

My probe of fear pushed its way into Galenmir’s mind, and he dropped his heavy pick on the ground and pulled out a potion. I was not sure what the potion was, but it seemed to me he had switched his focus from defending his post to preserving his life.

The others attacked anyway, and Galenmir was dead within seconds. My eyes locked onto Domoki as I saw him loose arrow after arrow with no sign of emotion on his face. He had called _me_ a murderer.

“Gentlemen,” I said, when the fight was over, making no effort to disguise my disappointment, “that was _not_ necessary.”

I flew over to Galenmir’s corpse and picked the potion of his still warm hand to inspect it.

“It’s a potion of gaseous form,” I pointed out. “He was trying to escape.”

“If we’d let him get away, he would have come after us with reinforcements,” said Tenebis. “We couldn’t allow him to raise the alarm.”

I shook my head and moved on in silence.

The kobolds in the next hallway did not want to let us pass. They fought to the death and I felt no guilt for killing them. Down the hallway, Tenebis poked his head around the corner and whispered back at us.

“Four Stone Giants – first one, 35 feet in, 5 feet across…”

Domoki lined up his trick shot.

“You’re not even going to try to sneak past them,” I whispered, in disbelief.

Domoki started the fight with an arrow bounced off the wall and into the room. The commotion from fighting the giants in the first room lured out the giants in the second and we ended fighting all 11 of them at once. They fought to the death.

In the second room, we found a cage full of captive dwarves. Their beards had been shaved, and I knew that for a dwarf, this was the ultimate act of humiliation. I unlocked the cage with a key lifted from the corpse of a stone giant (there was no sense in wasting my magic unnecessarily). Asclepius turned herself visible and joined the dwarves in the cage to tend to their injuries. The dwarves kept their noses down and stared at the ground, and I saw that their spirits had been thoroughly broken.

“Hey there, men!” I said, quietly, but in an urgent tone, trying to get their attention. “We can help you escape! Are you interested?”

At this, one dwarf finally looked up at me.

“There is no escape,” he said, despairingly, “there are too many of them. They’ve got all the exits covered.”

“How do you think we got in?” I asked.

“Well, I don’t know,” he said. That clearly had not occurred to him until now. “Grendal, how do you think these folks got in here?”

“Maybe they teleported in,” said Grendal.

“No, no, no, if they could teleport, why would they have appeared in the hallway? They would’ve just appeared in the room,” said another.

“Maybe they’re stonewalkers and they walked through the walls to get here,” said a fourth.

The debate on how we had gotten in seemed to bring a little of their spirit back as they argued back and forth. Finally, they were quiet.

“How _did_ you get in?” asked the one who had spoken first.

“Through the tunnels.”

“No, that’s not possible,” said another dwarf, “those tunnels are heavily guarded. They’ve got Dragons and kobolds and giants all blocking it up.”

“We killed them all,” I said.

The dwarves erupted in another round of arguing over whether or not that was possible. When they were finished, they looked up again.

“So you’ve cleared a way out then? You’ll take us to freedom?” said a dwarf.

“We’d be happy to,” I answered. “But we have to assassinate someone first.”

Their eyes grew wide, but this time, no one challenged my words.

“We’ll come back for you. I’m leaving your cage unlocked. If we’re not back within a few hours, we’ve most likely been killed, and you should probably try to escape on your own.”

The dwarves nodded, dumbfounded, and Asclepius finished her work, and the seven of us moved on towards our target.

“What were you thinking?” I whispered to Domoki once we were back in the hallway. “We were supposed to sneak past those rooms, not kill everyone inside!”

“Look on the bright side,” said Domoki, “if we hadn’t killed the Stone Giants, we couldn’t have freed the dwarves.”

“Well, ok,” I admitted, “that is a valid point, but you didn’t even know the dwarves were there when you started shooting. You just wanted to show off your trick shot!”

“No,” protested Domoki, “that’s not it! I…”

His voice trailed off, and he never finished his sentence.

“We should be coming up on the Northwest tunnels now,” I whispered, a little louder so everyone could hear, “and we are _going_ to follow Conna’s advice and sneak past them. Remember, she said if we attacked the residents of the Northwest tunnels, they could alert Mokmurian to our presence. We can’t risk that.”

We successfully snuck past the entrance to the Northwest tunnels, and soon enough, the tunnel we were in began to slope downwards. The natural tunnels we had been moving through gave way to worked stone. We were heading in to the library level. Conna had advised us to murder anything in our path once we reached the library level, and I had a suspicion none of our party would have a problem with following _that _advice.

As we entered the first room, the bizarre architecture of the place jumped out at me. The walls met the floors and ceilings not with hard corners but with strangely rounded edges, such that it was difficult to tell where one ended and the other began. It gave the whole place a disorienting, vaguely alien feel.

“Thassilonian architecture,” whispered Edyan, “this place is older than the fortress overtop.”

As we stepped into the next room, the disorienting feel of the walls stepped up a notch. The wall that I was looking at, directly in front of me, was standing still at a distance of twenty feet. All of the other walls, however, seemed to drift, nearer and farther in turn, at times seeming to stretch on forever, and at other times seeming right next to me. I did not have very long to examine this phenomenon, however, for as we stepped in to the room, two other things happened almost immediately: most of the party seemed to be growing rather quickly; and we were attacked. It was not long before I realized that it was not the rest of the party that growing, but rather it was _me_ that was _shrinking_. Fortunately, I stopped shrinking by the time I was reduced to a height of three feet, and I was able to shrug this off and aid in disposing of our attacker. It was a Stone Giant, I thought, originally, but no longer living. The skin of the undead creature was carved with a number of ancient Thassilonian runes which were somehow glowing. These runes seemed to deflect our attacks, and it took longer to deal with him than I would have liked.

When it lay on the ground dead, I took the time to look around and assess my situation. The walls were still moving about somehow; whichever one I looked at would hold still, the others moving strangely back and forth in my peripheral vision. Most of the party was twice as big as me now. Steranis, in Stone Giant form, was several times my size. I noticed that Tenebis, who usually fought at 12 feet tall, was the same height as everyone else; he must have been hit by the shrink-ray as well.

“I’ve been shrunk,” I said, out loud, not being able to think, in the moment, of anything more intelligent to say.

“Indeed,” said Asclepius, “that would appear to be the case. I believe I can fix it, if you’d like.”

I considered it for a moment.

“Will it go away eventually?” I asked.

“Shouldn’t last more than a day,” she answered.

“Then you might as well leave me like this for now,” I reasoned. “It shouldn’t affect my magic, and it makes me harder to hit. Smaller target.”

“Besides, this way, you don’t even have to get on your knees,” said Domoki, dryly.

My jaw dropped. Was I to believe my ears? Domoki, the innocent mountain monk, had just made a dirty joke, and a reasonably good one at that. He must have read a book or something.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” I shot back, as soon as I had recovered from my shock.

Domoki blushed bright white, and I thought I even saw a hint of orange seep into his cheeks before he turned away, once again hiding his face.

Tenebis had, at this point, succeeded in growing himself back to his usual twelve foot fighting size, so we moved on.

In the middle of the next room, an immense iron cauldron stood over a bonfire. Something foul was bubbling inside, and a column of thick, black smoke rose from the cauldron as a warning. Scattered bones, hair, and other less desirable body parts littered the floor around the cauldron, some of them clearly human. Behind the cauldron, a large, ugly giant stood, stirring the foul brew in the pot.

“Oh do come in,” said the giant, its voice dripping in sarcasm. “Table for… seven? Our specials today are death and dismemberment.”

“Ooh, tough choice. Have you got anything else?” I asked, after flying out from behind Tenebis’ shoulder.

“Well, not normally,” responded the giant, “but for you, I can make a special offer of incineration!”

“Oh, lovely, I’ll take that,” I said. “But I’m afraid it won’t be _my_ incineration. It will be yours.”

When the sassy giant was thoroughly sliced up, poked through, and burnt to a crisp, we paused to inspect the room. Edyan sniffed the air.

“Smells like necromancy,” he said.

I paused to do the same.

“You’re right. What do you suppose it does, exactly?” I asked, indicating the cauldron.

Edyan approached it and walked all the way around. It too was inscribed with glowing runes, like the ones on the undead giant in the shrinking room.

“I don’t know, off the top of my head,” he admitted. “But I’ve a feeling it has something to do with our deceased friend back there.”

“Well, we are going to a library,” said Domoki, “perhaps we will find out more about it there.”

I took this as our cue to move on.

In the next room, a half a dozen zombie giants had been trying to hide in some suits of armor on display, but as soon as they moved, fireballs were tossed their way by myself and Edyan, and all but one of them died. The remaining zombie giant, tougher than the others, and headless, fought for another minute or so, and then died unspectacularly. We pressed onwards.

At the end of a long hallway, we found a number of doors: three stone doors, and a pair of heavy brass ones.

“I know you’re very excited to get through those brass doors,” I said to Edyan, “but I think we should crack the stone doors first.”

“Indeed,” said Edyan, “it would hardly do to be attacked while I was trying to peruse the library.”

Behind the first stone door was only rubble, for that passage had collapsed long ago.

Behind the second stone door were half a dozen Hounds of Tindalos, otherworldly dogs with huge, soulless eyes and far too many teeth. It took some time to slay the hounds, for they started out invisible, and we could not see them until after they had attacked.

Behind the third stone door we found Mokmurian. I had, for some reason, not been expecting to encounter him until we reached the library proper, so when I opened this door and found myself face to face with the target of our assassination attempt, I threw myself into a harried frenzy trying to cast spell resistance on our front-liners before he could affect them. Mokmurian filled the room with a thick, solid fog that slowed movement and completely obscured sight. Tenebis and Steranis pressed in and began beating on the stone giant general, while Edyan and I struggled to counter his magic. It seemed that Mokmurian had stored spells in his club, for as it came down upon my allies I saw their faces screwing up not only with pain, but with the effort of resisting magical effects. Mokmurian tried to turn Steranis into stone, and Tenebis into a lizard. With the help of the spell resistance I had imbued them with, both doggedly refused to yield to the magic. As Steranis and Tenebis continued to beat him down, Mokmurian became more desperate. His blows were coming faster now, and he lashed out in anger at me, for I was responsible for his failed spells. Unfortunately for him, he had not done his research. He targeted me with fire, which I laughed off. My mastery over fire had increased, and it did not hurt me any longer. This threw him into an even greater rage, and he dealt a great deal of damage to Tenebis in the last few seconds before Tenebis finally lopped off his head.

I landed on the ground next to the fallen stone giant and picked up his head, which was still dripping with blood. Since I was still three feet tall, the giant’s head was as large as my torso, and I grabbed it by the hair with both hands before hoisting it up and staring it in the eyes.

Suddenly the dead eyes staring back at me were filled with an eerie green light. His mouth opened in a strange, mechanical way, as if his head were a marionette. The head spoke in a strange, almost human sounding accent that seemed out of place coming from the giant’s mouth.

“So these are the heroes of the age. More like gasping worms to me, soon to be crushed back into the earth when I awaken the armies of Xin-Shalast, when the name Karzoug is again spoken with fear and awe. Know that the deaths of those marked by the Sihedron—the giants you have so conveniently slain for me—hasten my return, just as yours soon will. Fools, all of you! Is this all you could manage in ten thousand years?”

The head began to laugh, and great, noisy, raucous laugh.

“You ain’t seen half of it yet,” I shot back, but by then the green glow in the eyes had already faded, and I’m not sure if he heard me or not. The head moved no more.


	17. Clean Up

With Mokmurian killed and his study looted, we moved on the great library. Standing in front of the tall brass double doors, Edyan pulled out the scroll with the passphrase and spoke it, slowly, carefully, quietly, like a prayer. The doors swung silently open on their hinges to reveal the library. The tall, cylindrical room extended upwards nearly to the surface, I thought, its walls lined with bookshelves all the way to the ceiling. It was quite a bit smaller than the university library in Magnimar, but _much_ older, and it promised to hold innumerable secrets about Old Thassilon, the Runelords, and whatever the hell was happening now.

As Edyan took his first steps into his own personal paradise, a strange mechanical creature made of brass lurched into view with a clatter.

“Which volume of lore would you like me to retrieve for you?” It asked in a monotone voice, in Thassilonian, “There are currently 24,491 volumes, scrolls, pamphlets, and unbound manuscripts available. Please indicate which one you wish by author, title, subject, or date of acquisition by the Therassic Monastery.”

Edyan looked over the construct with curiosity, then addressed it in Thassilonian, in kind.

“Subject: Runelord Karzoug.”

The creature turned and clattered away toward the stacks and a wide grin spread across Edyan’s face.

◊◊◊

“So while Edyan’s holed up in his paradise, do the rest of you want to come with me to report back to Conna?” I asked.

We left Edyan with his nose buried in a book, closed the doors behind us, and headed back towards where we had last seen Conna. I carried Mokmurian’s head in front of me. Everyone except for us in the library level was dead, but as we passed through the room with the giant cauldron, we saw that the foul liquid inside was still bubbling. I tried a few mundane ways of putting out the flames under it, and then a few magical ones, but the fire burned on and the cauldron kept bubbling.

“That’s not good,” I pointed out, “we need to figure out what this thing does and how to shut it down. It smells of necromancy and that concerns me.”

I took note to look in the library for anything about it, and we moved on out of the library level. Back in the natural tunnels, we decided to take the Northwest Tunnels that Conna had warned us about. I flew in front with Mokmurian’s head, and I figured if anyone had a problem with us deposing him, they would make that very clear.

The first to attack us were a pair of lamias and a pair of small red Dragons. These kept us busy for some time, but eventually we fought our way through and ended back at Conna’s cave. I flew in and landed in front of her, presenting Mokmurian’s head.

“Will you be needing this?” I asked.

Conna looked rather disgusted, but she took the head from me the nonetheless.

“Sadly, that might be necessary. Thank you,” she said.

“We killed Galenmir, Mokmurian, and everyone else on the library level. We also killed the lamias and the Dragons in the northwest passages. Do we need to kill anyone else?” I asked. I purposefully did not mention the dozen or so stone giants that we killed to free the dwarves, for I did not think that she would take kindly to that.

Conna looked stunned for a moment, presumably at the magnitude of the trail of destruction we had left in our wake. After a moment, she answered,

“Yes, actually. There is one more that must be taken care of, if you are up for it. Mokmurian’s… experiment. Up this hall and turn right.”

We followed Conna’s directions and came to a set of large stone double doors. The seven pointed star was carved deep into the face of the doors. Tenebis pushed the heavy doors open, and they creaked loudly on their hinges, announcing our presence to the creature within.

Strangely, the room appeared empty. The walls and ceiling of the room were of finely worked stone, but the floor was packed earth, which seemed strange. Seven large tree trunks had been driven into the soil like stakes, and each bore a large iron brazier at its top. Branding irons hung on chains from the stakes, and in the middle of the star formed by the tree trunks, the ground began to move.

Up from the ground rose an immense hill giant, seemingly half melded with the earth below him. Strange blue crystal growths patterned his skin, forming a crude resemblance to Thassilonian runes. The giant strode forward.

“Mokmurian is dead!” I declared in a loud voice, giving the giant a chance to break off its attack. “Cower before your new masters!”

As I spoke, I went through the motions of a fear spell with my left arm and reached out to seize the giant’s mind. I found nothing, as my spell bounced off a hard shell and fizzled out.

Killing the giant took some time, as every time it was close to death, it would meld back into the Earth for a minute, somehow heal itself, and then appear behind us in a different part of the room. It was finally Steranis who used his Druid magic to transmute the packed Earth of the floor to solid stone when the Giant was halfway out, trapping him there and allowing the rest of us to finish him off. When the giant had fallen, I heard Domoki calling my name from the back of the room.

“Urhador, we need to talk,” he said.

Confused, I flew over and landed.

“What is it?” I asked.

“ ‘Cower before your new masters’?” he asked, quoting me. “What was that about?”

“You have a problem with my fear tactics?” I asked. “I hardly think you’re in a position to be taking issue with that. You’re the one that starts fights like a coward by shooting around corners.”

Domoki ignored the insult and pressed on.

“Is that all it was?” he asked. “A fear tactic?”

“Yes,” I answered, confused as to what else it could have been.

“Good,” said Domoki. “I sounded for a minute like you intended to keep that monstrosity as a slave.”

“Domoki, I have no interest in owning slaves,” I reassured him.

“Good,” said Domoki again.

“And I don’t really see why you think you have the right to judge my battle tactics anyways,” I found myself continuing, “You’re the one who wanted to kill an entire tribe of Ogres. You’re the one that kept shooting Galenmir after he dropped his weapon. You’re the one that started a fight we didn’t have to fight by shooting around a corner at opponents who might have surrendered or not even noticed us. So I think you should quit trying to claim the moral high ground here and admit that you’re projecting your own guilt onto me because you don’t want to own it. We’re all monsters, Domoki. Every single one of us. Get over it.”

I had lost control of my volume during that last little monologue, and the rest of the team was staring at me. I turned my back to them and flew back towards the library.

◊◊◊

I returned to the library the way we’d first come, picking up the Dwarven prisoners on the way. Every dead giant I passed, I cremated. I did not want their bodies lying around to be fed into the necromantic cauldron.

Now that we had cleared the library level of threats, I figured we could hide in the library while Edyan scoured it for information, then teleport out when we were finished. Since the library door seemed to be magically protected, and I doubted any of the stone giants still alive knew the password, we ought to be safe there.

Edyan had settled in at a study desk with a large pile of tomes. His eyes briefly left the open tome before him to register my presence, then returned to the book without a word. The dwarves filed in quietly and settled in at a table near the other side of the room. I picked out a book on magic and found a spot to make myself at home. Ten minutes later, the rest of the party entered as well, and they too settled in in silence.

When Edyan closed his book and reached for another one, I decided to take the opportunity to ask him a question.

“Edyan, you know that giant cauldron down the hallway? The one that smells of necromancy?” I asked.

“Yes,” said Edyan.

“Do you have any idea what it does?” I asked.

“Not yet,” said Edyan. “Looking into it. I’ll keep you posted.”

I returned to my book.

Several hours later, halfway through his stack of books, Edyan spoke again.

“Urhador, I seem to have an answer to your question,” he started.

“Oh?” I asked.

“It’s bad,” he continued.

“How bad?” I asked.

“ ‘Army of undead giants’ bad.”

“That’s bad,” I agreed. The army of live giants that we were currently facing was bad enough, and they had free will, and presumably something resembling a conscience. Undead, as I had learned, were under the complete control of whoever had raised them. An army of them would entail a mindless force perfectly obedient to whatever vile individual next found the cauldron and figured out how to use it. On top of that, undead tended to be more difficult to kill than the living.

“Can it be destroyed?” I asked.

“Yes…” said Edyan, hesitating to finish his sentence.

“How?” I pressed.

“A giant has to willingly sacrifice himself in the cauldron to destroy it…”

“What if we just collapsed this whole area around it? I’m not sure if the other giants know it’s there, but if they don’t, they wouldn’t likely bother to try to excavate it.”

“I considered that thought,” admitted Edyan, “but artifacts of this power level have a tendency to make themselves known to those who would use them. If we don’t destroy it, then whether it takes a hundred years or a thousand, someone will eventually find it and activate it.”

“…and that would spell the end of Varisia,” I finished for him.

“At the very least,” he agreed.

“Then I suppose I know what I have to do,” I admitted, reluctantly. “You don’t know of a way of turning me into a giant, do you?”

“I do not,” he said.

“Then I shall go speak with Steranis.”

I got up from my chair and walked over to where Steranis was sitting quietly in his half-elf form.

“Steranis,” I said. “Do you know of a way of turning me into a giant?”

“No,” said Steranis, “I can only do that to myself. There are other ways that could be used to make you _look_ like a giant, but they wouldn’t count for your purposes.”

“You were listening to Edyan and me speaking,” I observed.

“I have a very good sense of hearing,” said Steranis.

“Very well,” I said. “If I cannot turn myself into a giant, I suppose I am off to find a volunteer.”

Steranis did not volunteer, and I wasn’t about to press him on it, so I returned to Edyan to ask one more question.

“What exactly is meant by ‘willingly’?” I asked.

“Pardon?” asked Edyan.

“You said a giant must willingly sacrifice himself in the cauldron. What exactly is meant by ‘willingly’?” I repeated.

“As in, he has to know what he’s doing,” answered Edyan, as he realized what I planned to do. “He can’t be under threats or magical compulsion. Coercion is… iffy.”

“Can I see that book?” I asked.

Edyan sighed and handed over the book and moved on to another one. I read the section over a few times and considered my options. Convincing a giant to sacrifice his life was something I was fairly confident I could do, with enough time and a combination of natural charm and the judicious use of the magic of suggestion, but I struggled over the ethics of it. It was certainly an evil act that would tarnish my soul, but I was quite certain the alternative was worse. I could not allow my homeland to be trampled by an army of undead. On top of that, there were the souls of the potential undead to consider. Asclepius had explained to me once that raising the dead through necromancy prevented their souls from moving on into the afterlife. Their souls were trapped in their bodies until they were killed again for good. For this reason, killing undead was an act of mercy. I figured if I could prevent them from being created in the first place, all the better.

◊◊◊

That night I sat up for a long time, a glowing orb placed above my shoulder, reading over our contract with the devil again and again. I was no longer searching for a loophole, but instead just appreciating the irony of that fact that I held a signed contract with the devil in my hands, and was still concerned about the state of my soul. Letting Avaxial go hadn’t _felt_ evil, even if objectively it must have been. Playing suicidal mind games with a giant, even if I believed it to be for the greater good, most definitely _did_ feel evil. After a night of fitful sleep, I set off to find my victim.

I woke early, before the others, to find myself my own normal size again. I made sure Domoki was still asleep, then turned myself invisible and snuck out through the library doors. As much as I was currently mad at Domoki for his moral double standard, I did not want him to know what I was about to do.

I quietly crept out of the library and back the way we’d come. I passed by the necromantic cauldron, then through the room that had shrunk me the day before. The shrinking room still worked just fine. I decided if I wanted a giant to take me seriously, I’d better not be three feet tall, so I pulled out a spellbook I’d borrowed from the library and grew myself back to my original 5-foot-8 before continuing up through the long tunnel to the area where we’d met Conna. We had passed a mess hall around there, and that seemed as good a place as any to begin my search. As luck would have it, it was a very quick search. When I arrived at the mess hall, a single giant sat alone at a table, contemplating a tall mug of ale. He looked lonely, and rather young, just passing from adolescence into adulthood. He reminded me a little of myself at that age, and it did not escape my notice that now _I_ was the bully that I had feared in my youth.

Without revealing my presence, I felt for my magic and reached out for his consciousness, brushing it with a calming presence. Not enough to influence his thoughts much at all, I hoped, just enough to keep him from immediately attacking me when I showed myself. Then I appeared before him at the entrance to the mess hall, far enough away that I wouldn’t startle him or seem threatening. He looked up and noticed me.

“Who are you?” he asked.

“I am Urhador,” I said.

“Are you one of the ones who came to kill the chief?”

“I am,” I admitted.

“Good,” he said. “Mokmurian was a terrible chief. I am Gorsch.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Gorsch.”

“Why are you still here?” asked Gorsch.

“Our work here is not yet done,” I said. “Tell me more about Mokmurian. Why was he a terrible chief?”

Gorsch regarded me suspiciously for a moment, deciding whether to answer my question or not.

“The other chiefs always led with inspiring speeches and force of personality. We followed them because we loved them. Mokmurian wasn’t like the other chiefs. He locked himself away in that basement doing who knows what, and word came out that we were at war. Mokmurian sent his closest generals to gather the other tribes, but no one told us what the war was about.

“Well, perhaps I can help you with that,” I answered. I looked around to check that no one was coming. “After we killed Mokmurian, his eyes glowed blue and his disembodied head started speaking to us. Mokmurian was possessed in some way, or at least under the influence of a more powerful being. That being is called Karzoug, and he was once one of the most powerful magi in the world. He hasn’t been heard from in thousands of years, but it appears now that he is returning.”

Gorsch stared at me, judging whether or not to believe my fantastical tale.

“And why does Karzoug want war?” asked the young giant.

“Because he is the Runelord of Greed. And war breeds profit.”

Gorsch nodded and thought over this for a short time.

“What will happen now?” he asked.

“That is up to you, not us,” I said. “We will interfere no further in the running of your tribe. I believe your elder Conna may have had some ideas.”

“Conna is mad,” he said, matter-of-factly, as if this was common knowledge.

“Or perhaps she only wanted you to think that,” I pointed out. “I spoke to her yesterday and she seemed to me to still have all her wits about her.”

Gorsch narrowed his eyes.

“I’ll talk to her,” he said, not yet believing me, but seemingly willing to put in the effort to find out for himself.

Gorsch was naturally very suspicious of me, as well he should be. But I had done what I needed to do on our first meeting – given him some information that he could verify himself. There was no point in telling him anything more until he had had a chance to do that.

“I must go now,” I said. “My companions will be waking soon and I do not want them to know that I was gone.”

Gorsch shrugged and took a swig of his ale. I turned and walked a few paces before turning myself invisible again and making my way back to the library.

Steranis was awake when I returned. I figured showing myself was a better option than letting him think an invisible foe was lose in the library, so as soon as I opened the door and saw him up, I shed my invisibility.

“Were you out doing what I think you were doing?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said. “You needn’t tell the others, if you don’t mind.”

Steranis didn’t answer, so I figured I’d just have to hope for the best.

◊◊◊

I repeated my stunt the next morning. When I arrived at the mess hall, Gorsch was there again, in the exact same spot as he had been the previous day. I lowered my invisibility as I approached.

“Good morning, again,” I said.

“Hello Urhador,” he replied.

“Mind if I take a seat today?” I asked.

“Go ahead.”

I climbed up onto a stool opposite him (which took some doing, since they were sized for giants).

“Have you been here the whole time, or do you occasionally leave this mess hall?”

“I went and talked to Conna.”

“Ah. And what did you learn?”

“You were correct. She is not mad.”

“It’s nice to have some independent corroboration.”

“What’s down there, in Mokmurian’s secret basement?” asked Gorsch.

“You’ve never been there yourself?” I asked, in turn.

“No. Only his inner circle was allowed down there. The amount of secrecy around it has made me curious.”

“There’s a library, left over from ancient times… and a creepy necromantic cauldron.”

“A what?”

“Do you want to go see?” I asked.

“It’s not allowed…” started Gorsch, then caught himself. “I’d like that.”

I jumped down from the stool and set off back toward the ancient structure, Gorsch following two steps behind. Being eleven feet tall, his gait was considerably longer than mine, and he would naturally have walked much faster than me. But Gorsch must have been rather nervous, for he was walking very slowly toward the forbidden area, and I didn’t think it was in deference to me.

Soon we came to the place where the tunnel changed to worked stone and the corners disappeared. Gorsch slowed down even further here, inspecting the tunnel carefully as he continued through it. Soon we came to the room that had shrunk us on our way in the first time. I stopped him before we entered to warn him of its effects.

“The room before us, Gorsch,” I explained, “shrinks people. I don’t know whether it works on giants or not, but if it does, I should be able to fix you afterwards with a spell. If you don’t trust me to do that, you should turn around here.”

Grosch struggled with that idea, but soon his curiosity won out, and he stepped out into the room. He face twitched at the effort of trying to resist the magic, and ultimately, he did not succeed. A mild look of panic spread across his face as he shrunk down to 6 feet tall, but he quickly got a hold of himself and looked me in the eye, our faces now being nearly level.

“How come it doesn’t work on you?” he asked.

“It does,” I assured him. “It shrunk me once already this morning. Then I fixed myself. It doesn’t seem to work on any given person twice in one day.”

“Will you fix me now, then?” he asked.

I cast _enlarge person_, and Gorsch grew back to his original size. We moved on.

In the next room, we came to the necromantic cauldron. The unnatural fire still burned under it, and the cauldron bubbled, filling the air with the pungent stink of undeath.

“What is _that_?” asked Gorsch.

“I told you, it’s a necromantic cauldron. You put dead giants in, your get undead giants out.”

“Well that’s all sorts of fucked up,” said Gorsch. “Was Mokmurian planning to use it?”

“He already had,” I informed him. “We had to kill an undead giant on the way in.”

Gorsch looked saddened by this news.

“Where did you put his body?” he asked.

“We burned it,” I said. “It seemed the best way to keep him from being raised again.”

“Thank you,” he said.

“Was it someone you knew?”

“I think so,” said Gorsch. “A friend of mine, Kusich, died about a week ago, and Mokmurian took his body down to his study. I shouldn’t have let him do that. I didn’t know what he planned to do with it, but I knew it couldn’t have been anything good. I should have stopped him. I should have protected Kusich.”

I wanted to comfort Gorsch and assume him that it was not his fault, but I stopped myself. I reminded myself that if my plan was to get Gorsch to sacrifice himself to destroy the cauldron, I should work with every bit of guilt I could find in him. I let Gorsch stew in his own guilt for a minute, then stepped it up a little.

“When a body is raised through necromancy, it prevents the soul from passing into the afterlife. The soul is trapped within the undead creature until it is killed again. They say that undeath is torment for the soul. The undead are robbed of their free will and subject only the will of the one who raised them. To be in there, and aware of what is happening, but unable to do anything about it… I can’t imagine it.”

I saw a tear run down Gorsch’s cheek before he quickly wiped it away.

“But, you killed him again, so his soul is free now, right?” he asked, speaking through the lump in his throat.

“Yes,” I said. “His soul should be on its way to whatever afterlife it was destined for by now.”

“That’s good,” he said. “Thank you for setting him free.”

“You’re welcome,” I said.

I kept walking on towards the library. Gorsch took one last look at the cauldron and followed.

We came next to Mokmurian’s study. Gorsch took a few steps in and stopped. He surveyed the room: the piles of books on the desk, the artifacts displayed on the bookshelves, the bloodstains on the floor.

“Do you mind if I stay here a bit?” he asked, eyeing the books on the desk. “I’d like to find out more about what he was up to.”

“Go ahead,” I said. I turned and left the room, then turned invisible again and came back to stand in the doorway and watch. I had left the book detailing the procedure for destroying the cauldron with several others on Mokmurian’s desk. I could not tell him of my findings myself. I was certain a part of him still considered me the enemy, and he would not commit suicide at the enemy’s bidding. No, he had to discover this part for himself. Still, there was no guarantee he would read the whole book, and he was unlikely to find the important part without a little nudge. I stood quietly and waited.

Gorsch first paced all along the perimeter of the room, examining the bookshelves that lined it, and the fireplace on the far wall. When he had done that, he walked slowly over to Mokmurian’s desk and sat down at it. He picked a book at random and began to leaf through it. I gave him twenty minutes without any interference, and he flipped through several books, reading a page or two here and there. The next time he reached for a book, I acted. I reached out with my mind and touched his, planting a simple suggestion on the surface – just a hunch, and inkling, that this one particular book was the one he was looking for. I relaxed my hold a bit as he reached for the right book. He began to flip through, and read a few pages near the beginning. He flipped forward a bit, read another page, and moved to put the book down. Extending my mental probe into his mind again, I pushed: _don’t give up yet; there’s something here. _Gorsch picked the book back up. He began to flip through every page, not reading the whole page, but quickly scanning for keywords that might jump out. It was not look before he stopped. He had found the right place. I waited with bated breath as he read through the key passage. Then, one last time, I reached into his mind, deeper this time, and planted a thought: _I couldn’t protect Kusich; but I can keep it from happening again. _Gorsch would believe that this thought was his own.

I left now, and returned to the library. I couldn’t control what Gorsch would do with his new information and his implanted suggestion. But I had done all I could, and now it was time to wait and see if he would do his part.

◊◊◊

I returned to Mokmurian’s study a few hours later to check if Gorsch was still there. He was not. I walked on down the hall to the room with the cauldron.

The cauldron lay cracked in two on the stone floor. The acrid contents had spread across the room and cooled to a sticky mess. There was no sign of Gorsch, but I knew there was only one way this could have happened.

“Thank you, Gorsch,” I said aloud, to the empty room, “for your sacrifice. I’m sorry I had to do that to you.”

◊◊◊

When I returned to the library, I didn’t try to hide. Domoki, who was sitting on the floor meditating, opened his eyes.

“Where were you?” he asked.

“Just taking care of some things.”

“What things?”

“Things that don’t concern you.”

Domoki gave me a hard stare for several seconds before closing his eyes again. He knew he couldn’t get me to talk if I didn’t want to, but at least he could express his disapproval for my secrecy.

“I need to get out of here for a while,” I said, to whoever was listening. “I’m going to teleport to Magnimar for a few days.”

“Ok,” acknowledged Edyan. “Have fun.”

“Going whoring?” asked Tenebis.

I raised one eyebrow at him.

“Seriously, Tenebis?” I asked. “You think I have to _pay_ for sex?”

“No, I meant the other way around,” he corrected.

I chuckled.

“Nah,” I said. “If I were getting paid, that would make it work. It would suck all the fun out of it, I expect… no pun intended.”

I pulled out a spellbook and was about to teleport away when Domoki opened his eyes again.

“May I come with you?” he asked.

“Why?” I asked.

“I feel pretty useless here. I was never a book person. Magnimar has a shooting range at least.”

I wondered if those were his true motives, or if he was just coming to keep an eye on me, after my response to Tenebis’ joke. But I figured either way, refusing him transport would earn me a lecture from Asclepius. I could probably lose him pretty quickly once we got to the city anyway.

“Fine,” I said. “Get over here.”

Domoki picked up his pack and walked over. The dwarven prisoners we had rescued also came over to me and formed a chain. I grabbed Domoki with one hand and the nearest Dwarf with the other and focused on the spell, picturing in my mind’s eye the place in Magnimar most familiar to me.

The library dimmed before me and fell away in swirl of colours. We materialized on my parents’ front lawn. Fortunately, neither of them were outside, so I was able to get the horde of us away from there without explaining anything. The dwarves thanked us for the rescue and were on their way.

◊◊◊

I spent the next few days hanging around the busiest parts of Magnimar, listening for relevant gossip. News of the attack on Sandpoint had made it to town, but nothing after that. I was recognized more frequently now, and I have to say, I didn’t mind. The public was eager for stories, and I was happy to tell them.

I did some shopping, upgraded my gear a bit, and picked up a few things the others had mentioned they needed.

For the most part I avoided Domoki. It had become clear to me that he did not know what he wanted from me, so I’d best just leave him alone until he figured it out one way or another. I did run into him once in the hallway of the inn, with my arm around another man; Domoki did not look pleased. I decided that was hardly my fault. I had made no promises to him.

When I had finished with my business in Magnimar, I went to find Domoki at the archery range and teleported us back to the Library under Jorgenfist. Edyan was still studying, Asclepius and Steranis seemed to helping, and Tenebis was crafting something. Ulrick was playing catch with himself. It seemed we still weren’t going anywhere anytime soon. I picked up a book and settled back in.


	18. Demonic Hellhole

It was on the sixth day after we had killed Mokmurian that something finally happened to prod us out of the library. I was simply curled up in a chair, reading through a book of divination spells, when a voice intruded into my head – the voice of Father Zantus. The message was brief and to the point:

_Demonic hell-hole opened up on Tower Street. Already lost three men down it. Send help._

_ \- Father Zantus_

I closed my book with a loud clap and stood up abruptly.

“We have to leave. Now,” I announced. “There’s trouble in Sandpoint.”

The others caught on quickly to the urgency in my voice, and everyone was packed up and ready to go within minutes. I grabbed on to Domoki and Steranis and cast _teleport_. Edyan did the same with Asclepius, Tenebis, and Ulrick.

We materialized in the common room of the Rusty Dragon. A few customers jumped in their seats, and Ameiko looked up, startled, from the tray of food she had been serving.

“You know, we do have a front door, Urhador,” she chided, trying and failing to conceal a smile. “There’s no need to frighten my clientele with unnecessary teleportation antics.”

“My apologies,” I said, stopping to give her a hug. “I received a message from Father Zantus suggesting that time was of the essence. I figured startling a few people was acceptable as collateral damage.”

“Fair enough,” she said. “I believe Father Zantus, Sheriff Hemlock, and the Mayor are all waiting for you at the garrison. You should get going. After that, I’d love to hear how it went with the Stone Giants.”

We filed out and made our way to towards the garrison, where the leaders of the town were indeed waiting.

“Thank you for coming so quickly,” said Mayor Deverin, as we walked in. “Judging by the fact that you are all still alive, I take it your mission was successful.”

“Astutely observed,” I said. “We have assassinated their top general, and while I’m not certain who is now in charge, it seems that their motivation to go to war has abated.”

“That’s good to hear,” said the Sheriff. “I’m sorry to have disturbed you with another problem while you were still off saving our collective asses from the last one, but as I’m sure you gathered from Father Zantus’ message, there is another matter that needs your attention.”

“Ok, shoot,” said Tenebis.

“The sinkhole opened up about a week ago in a minor earthquake. At first, it didn’t seem cause for much concern. However, there were strange noises coming out of the hole, and I sent a few of the town guard in to investigate. That was my first mistake.”

“I gather, then, that they didn’t return,” I prompted.

“No,” said the Sheriff, “they did not. I decided that sending more men in to figure out what happened to them would only make things worse. So, I roped it off and posted guards to ensure that no one else would enter it until you returned. Early this morning, the noises grew louder and more frequent, and I decided we could wait no longer. That’s when I had Father Zantus contact you.”

I turned to Father Zantus.

“You called it a ‘demonic hellhole’ in your message,” I said. “What was demonic about it?”

“The sounds that emerge from it at night. Something like the baying of dogs, but… louder, shriller, far more terrifying. Hellhounds, perhaps. And the sound of something quite like human, screaming in anguish.”

“Well, let’s go take a look,” I said.

We left the garrison and turned the corner onto Tower Street. The sinkhole took up the whole width of the street and a bit more, and the North wall of the garrison had collapsed and fallen into the hole. The North cell block could be seen opening into the hole.

“Was anyone in those cells when it collapsed?” I asked the Sheriff.

“No,” he answered. “Town’s been pretty quiet lately. I think all the small time crooks have been cowed into submission by all the big happenings lately. Cell block was empty.”

The hole looked to be about 50 feet deep, and it was dark at the bottom. It was quiet at the moment. I conjured up a scrying sensor and sent it down to take a look around. There was an ancient structure down at the bottom of the hole, not at all unlike what we’d found under the glassworks months ago. I wondered if the two underground structures were connected at all. Mentally directing the eye to move forward, I probed further into the dark. Down a tunnel it went, but it had barely gone twenty feet when it came upon a thick mist that I could not see through. The mist hung heavily in the air, and I’d seen it’s like before. It was a magical effect, specifically designed to obscure vision and make ranged combat impossible. Nualia had used this trick on us twice before.

Unfortunately, I could not burn off the mist remotely. My fire needed a clear line of effect to work, and this cloud of mist was around a corner from me. I would have to go down there before I could get rid of it. Furthermore, there was the possibility that the town guard that had gone down there were still alive and being held as prisoners, so I didn’t especially want to start throwing fireballs around indiscriminately. As such, my little reconnaissance mission was at an end. I dismissed the sensor and reported my findings to the team.

“Well, let’s get in there then,” said Tenebis.

I cast a light on the end of my staff and we flew down.

“I expect I can burn off this mist,” I whispered, “but if anyone’s down here, that will certainly alert them of our presence.”

“Hold off on that, for the moment then, please,” requested Tenebis, and we began to slowly move forward through the mist.

The walls down here were covered in hastily scrawled writings, as if someone had been struggling to write it all down before they forgot. Someone had been writing down here for quite some time: in places, the words were scrawled in dark ink, in others they were scratched into the stone itself, and in a few places, they were written in what appeared to be humanoid blood. The writings were in Thassilonian, which I could now read, thanks to my ‘Dragon memory hacks’ but understanding the words didn’t do much for my comprehension. The thoughts were scattered and nonsensical. We would have to spend some time deciphering them once we’d cleared the danger.

A light flickered somewhere off to the left. We flew towards it.

The voice of a man spoke out of the mist:

“Who are you?”

“We call ourselves the seven,” I answered, purposely choosing the answer that gave away as little information as possible. “Who are you?”

“I have forgotten my name,” answered the voice. “It has been so long. What became of Thassilon?”

“Thassilon is long gone,” I answered. If I was going to be answering questions for this individual, I might as well get some answers out of him too. “Who do you serve?”

“I serve Lamashtu,” said the voice. “Are the Runelords still in power?”

“No,” I answered. “What are you still doing here?”

“That is what I have been trying to figure out,” said the voice. “You can see that I have been writing on the walls. Who is in charge out there? Who leads the nations now that the Runelords are gone? Who wields powerful magic?”

The voice had broken our implied rule of one question at a time, taking turns, so I saw no reason to tell the truth.

“We do,” I said, not specifying whether that was the answer to his first, second, or third question, or perhaps all three.

“You know, I feel like this is just a diversion,” cut in Tenebis. “He’s buying time for something, and I don’t really want to know what. He did say he serves Lamashtu. I think we should just kill him.”

“Well, no one’s stopping you,” I said.

Tenebis took a few more steps into the mist toward the voice, swinging his sword in front of him.

“Oh,” I said. “I suppose you’d like to be able to see.”

I threw out a wide swath of flame out before me into the room. The mist burned up to reveal two four-armed demons and a man. The demons had claws like crabs on their top set of arms, talons on their bottom arms, and taloned feet. They had the horns of a ram and the tail of a scorpion.

The man directed them to attack, and they did.

Steranis rushed forward and joined the frenzy, and Domoki and Ulrick took aim at the man and began to fire. Edyan joined me in the launching of fireballs.

The man cast a spell at the cluster of us in the back, and I mentally fought for control over it. It was trying to slow me down, but I broke through. I saw that Domoki had not been as lucky. His movements were drawn out now, as if he were trying to move through a pool of thick molasses. I cast _haste_, counteracting the spell and returning Domoki to his normal speed.

The first demon fell to Tenebis’ sword.

The man cast another spell, and Domoki was paralyzed. Edyan cast a spell back at the enemy caster, and I saw him mentally fighting against the effect.

The second demon fell to Steranis.

The man cast a spell on himself, trying to get away, but to his surprise, he went nowhere. Edyan had anchored him here. Tenebis stepped forward and finished him off.

Domoki’s paralysis took a few minutes to wear off, and I stood by him until it did. The others, meanwhile, had spread out to investigate. I heard the baying of dogs, then gunshots, and a few moments later, Ulrick peeked his head back out of a tunnel.

“Shadow mastiffs!” he announced. “I’m ok!”

Just then, Domoki snapped out of his paralysis.

“Darn,” said Domoki.

I laughed.

“You ok, Domoki?”

“Yes, I’m fine. Thank you.”

◊◊◊

The rest of the catacombs were empty of creatures, and we soon found the place where this structure connected to the one under the glassworks. Ulrick found and collected the bones of the town guards who had been killed by the shadow mastiffs and brought them back to Father Zantus so he could give them a proper burial. I thought that was remarkably decent of him.

When we were sure we had rid the area of all dangers, we settled down to decipher the writings on the walls. Most of them were prayers to Lamashtu, and little bits of history from Ancient Thassilon. But a few passages jumped out at us as not quite fitting with the text that surrounded them. They were verses of a poem. We copied them down, and put them in what felt like the right order.

_If magic bright is your desire,_

_To old Runeforge must you retire!_

_For only there does wizard’s art_

_Receive its due and proper start._

_On eastern shores of steaming mirror,_

_At end of day when dusk is nearer,_

_Where seven faces silent wait_

_Encircled guards at Runeforge gate._

_Each stone the grace of seven lords,_

_One part of key each ruler hoards;_

_If offered spells and proper prayer;_

_Take seven keys and climb the stair._

_On frozen mountain Xin awaits,_

_His regal voice the yawning gates_

_Keys turn twice in Sihedron—_

_Occulted Runeforge waits within._

_And now you’ve come and joined the forge_

_Upon rare lore your mind can gorge—_

_And when you slough the mortal way_

_In Runeforge long your work shall stay._

◊◊◊

That evening we sat around a table at the Rusty Dragon once again, analyzing the poem that we had found in the “demonic hellhole”. Edyan was pretty sure he knew where this place was; he said that Lake Stormunder in the Kodar Mountains was fed by a hot spring, and that the mountain Rimeskull, next to it, had an ancient monument on its Western slopes: seven faces carved in stone.

None of us had any idea what might await us at this “runeforge” – but no one even brought up the possibility of not going. This was clearly connected in some way to what was going on with Karzoug, and as such, it was our duty to investigate.

Since we’d left the library below Jorgenfist in such a hurry, Edyan had never had a chance to brief us on what he had learned there. He took the opportunity to do so now, talking between bites of Ameiko’s delicious braised ham. I had managed to convince her to join us for dinner, and she sat attentively, listening to Edyan’s lecture and looking genuinely interested.

He told us about each of the seven Runelords. Each Runelord had originally been associated with one of the seven virtues of rule, as well as one of the schools of magic, but as time went on and the Runelords grew more and more corrupt, they abandoned the pretense of the virtues of rule and openly styled themselves after the deadly sins: Alaznist, the Runelord of Wrath and Evocation magic; Belimarius, the Runelord of Envy and Abjuration magic; Karzoug, the Runelord of Greed and Transmutation magic; Krune, the Runelord of Sloth and Conjuration magic; Sorshen, the Runelord of Lust and Enchantment magic; Xanderghul, the Runelord of Pride and Illusion magic; and Zutha, the Runelord of Gluttony and Necromancy.

He told us what he’d learned about Runewells. They were fed with trapped souls, as we had previously learned, and each had its own power, but there seemed to be more of them throughout Golarion, and they seemed to be networked together in some manner. It could be destroyed by filling it with Holy Water and boiling it for 24 hours. Asclepius pointed out that that would take a hell of a lot of Holy Water, and since powdered silver was involved in the creation of Holy Water, it would be ridiculously time consuming _and_ ridiculously expensive to make that much of it. I worried about where the other Runewells were and what they were up to. It couldn’t possibly be good.

For the first time in a long time, though, there was no pressing time limit on the next step of our quest. We decided to wait a week before setting off for Lake Stormunder.


	19. Tea

We spent our week off in Magnimar, since Tenebis needed some esoteric components to finish whatever it was he was making.

It was after I’d retired to my room in the evening, and was writing the day’s events in my journal before turning in, that I heard a knock at my door.

“Who is it?” I called out.

“It’s Domoki.”

I decided I’d been avoiding talking to him for too long. I walked over to the door and opened it. Domoki stood at the door with a tray held out almost defensively in front of him. On the tray sat a square iron tea pot and two mismatched porcelain cups.

“I brought tea,” he said, rather unnecessarily.

I wasn’t especially fond of tea right before bed, but I recognised it as a peace offering, and decided I had better accept.

“Come in,” I said, standing aside so he could enter.

Domoki walked in and set down the tea set on the end table next to my armchair. As he poured the tea, I noticed the motifs on the teacups: the one he handed to me was a deep yellow with an orange flame painted on the side; the other was cobalt blue adorned with a simple round grey stone. I accepted my tea with a smile and looked around the room, only now noticing that I did not have a second chair.

“You can have the chair,” I offered. “I’ll stand.”

“No thanks,” said Domoki. “Chairs are weird. I’ll take the floor.”

I chuckled as Domoki settled in cross-legged on the floor with his tea. I felt awkward sitting on the chair while he was on the floor – I’d be talking down to him – so I sat down opposite him, also on the floor, and using the wall as a back rest. I took a sip of my tea and recognised the taste of lemongrass.

“So, what brings you around?” I asked.

“You were right,” he said. “I shouldn’t have criticised your combat tactics. Mine are just as objectionable. I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted,” I said. “I’m sorry I ignored you for a week afterwards. That was bit of an over-reaction.”

“It’s just – I worry about you sometimes, Urhador. I suppose I ought to worry just as much about myself.”

“I try not to think about it too much now,” I admitted. “We do what we think is necessary… and then we try our best to sleep at night.”

Domoki nodded.

“What do you think we’ll find at Lake Stormunder?” he asked, changing the subject to something more comfortable.

“I don’t know,” I said. “But if ‘magic bright is my desire,’ which I will admit it is, I’m motivated to find out. Have you any ideas?”

“I don’t pretend to know things,” said Domoki. “I just come along and shoot stuff and make sure nobody lies to you.”

“You give yourself too little credit, Domoki. ‘Making sure nobody lies to us’ _is_ knowing things.”

“I suppose,” he admitted.

“Isn’t where we’re going pretty close to home for you?” I asked. “Eydan said Lake Stormunder is in the Kodar Mountains.”

“Yes, it is. Heard of it. Never went there. It should be interesting.”

“Sounds like a nice place – hot spring fed lake, up in the mountains, gorgeous view I’m sure – if it weren’t for the fact that someone is bound to try to ambush us there, it’d be the perfect vacation spot.”

Domoki laughed.

“You know how I feel about lakes,” he pointed out.

“Well, there’s that,” I acknowledged.

“It’ll be nice to be in the mountains again, though,” said Domoki.

“Do you miss your friends at the monastery?” I asked. “You never talk about them. In fact, you never really talk much about anything that happened before you joined this quest.”

“I didn’t really have friends at the monastery,” he admitted. “I was surrounded by people, but it was a solitary existence nonetheless. I never really spent time with people, just talking. You and Asclepius are the first people I could really call friends.”

“How did you learn to read people so well – to do your lie detector thing – without talking to them?”

“I didn’t learn it. It just came to me. It started when I was a child, we’d be eating dinner at the monastery and I’d just look at someone and say ‘why are you angry?’ – and apparently, to everyone else, that man didn’t look angry at all, but I was right. I saw right through people, and nobody knew why. Soon the Abbot started to take me with him on trips into town, and we invented a code by which I could let him know if people were lying to us, trying to cheat us, or if they meant us harm.”

“Will you teach me this code?” I asked.

“I will,” he answered.

There was a comfortable silence between us for a time, as we sipped our tea. I finished mine first, and returned my teacup back to the tray on the end table. Domoki seemed to draw out the last few sips, as if unsure whether he wanted to leave or not. But soon he did finish, and he stood up and picked up his tea set.

“It’s getting late,” he said. “I should be going.”

I wanted to invite him to stay the night, but I was pretty sure I’d already made my interest clear. It was him that I couldn’t get a read on. There were times when I was certain he was flirting with me, but anytime I tried something, he froze up. If he wanted anything to happen between us, he would have to take the lead.

“Goodnight, Domoki,” I said, opening the door for him.

“Goodnight, Urhador.”

◊◊◊

The next week passed at an unhurried pace. I spent my mornings doing glasswork. It had been a while since I’d practiced my craft, and I didn’t want to lose my touch. I made a set of animal figurines, and, having no particular desire to keep them, handed them out to the children out playing in the street. I spent my afternoons at the library or at the shooting range, depending on how I felt. I spent the evenings drinking tea with Domoki. He always left as soon as he finished his tea, and I made no effort to stop him. When he had left, I went out to find a man who _did_ want to share my bed. I couldn’t have Domoki, it seemed, but I did not have to be alone.

On the seventh night of this routine, the night before we were set to leave for Lake Stormunder, the knock at my door did not come at the usual time. Curious, I went down the hall to Domoki’s room and knocked on the door.

“Come in,” he called out, without asking who it was.

I opened the door and walked in to see that he had his tea set out, and was staring into the stove at a fire that wouldn’t light. The tea set in its entirety featured seven cups, though he had only ever brought over two to my room. Each cup was a different colour and with a different motif.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said. “Housekeeping gave me wet wood today. Fire won’t start. I can’t make tea.”

I sat down next to him.

“Hand me the kettle,” I said.

Domoki handed me the tea pot, which, from its weight, seemed to be already filled with water.

“You boil your tea straight in the pot?” I asked.

“It’s a magic tea pot,” he explained. “There’s a portal to the plane of water inside it or something, and it steeps perfectly every time. You just have to bring it to a boil and that’s it.”

I took the pot, and holding it from the bottom in both hands, I conjured up low flames. As I waited for the water to boil, I noticed for the first time the patterns wrought into the tea pot. Each side of the square pot was adorned with a pattern representing one of the four seasons. Winter faced towards me, showing a snowy mountain range. Spring showed a rushing river; Summer, a field of lilies; Autumn, an assortment of falling leaves. The kettle boiled.

“Don’t be afraid to use a fire sorcerer for what he is good for,” I said, with a wink and smile.

Domoki took the teapot back by the handle and began to pour the tea. He chose the same cups as he always did, the yellow one with the flames for me, the blue one with the stones for himself. The other five he left on their tray: A light grey cup with a golden halo – that must be for Tenebis; A maroon one with a silver bottle – Asclepius; A light green one with a brown eagle – Steranis, I supposed; A black one with a brass cartridge – clearly Ulrick; and a deep red one with a white bandage-wrapped fist – depending on when this tea set was made, that would have to be Joanos or Eydan, though I didn’t understand the symbolism either way.

“You don’t use the rest of these cups,” I observed. “There’s one for each of us.”

“Pigeon comes for tea sometimes. She uses hers,” he said, indicating the maroon cup. “The others don’t seem to drink much tea. It’s a shame. They don’t know what they’re missing out on.”

“What kind of tea is it today?” I asked.

“Peppermint,” he said. Domoki kept at least half a dozen different teas on hand at all times, it seemed, and every night this week it had been a different one. I was beginning to look forward to finding out what the tea of the evening would be.

“That’s different,” I observed. “Most of your teas are imported.”

“Yes,” he said. “I thought perhaps I should try some from around here though. I don’t want to miss anything just because it’s right under my nose.”

“Hmm,” I said.

“Did you know that they grow peppermint on every continent in Golarion?” he asked.

“Even Sarusan?” I prompted.

“Well, one can hardly know about Sarusan,” he admitted. “But I should think they do.”

Domoki launched into something of a lecture on the cultivation of teas at this point. I was happy to listen, not because I particularly cared about the cultivation of tea, but because it was nice to hear him talk about something he was so passionate about.

Domoki eventually did run out of things to say about tea, and finished the last few sips of the tea in his cup. Every night before this, when he had come to my room, he had left as soon as the tea was finished. I decided, then, that I ought to take this as my cue to leave.

“Well, it’s getting late,” I said, putting down my own empty tea cup. “I should get going.”

Domoki nodded, and I stood up to leave. I didn’t actually _say_ where I was likely to be going next, but I’m certain he knew, because before the door had a chance to close behind me, I heard a sudden shattering sound, and I turned back around to see that Domoki’s precious tea cup had shattered in his hand.

I walked slowly back to him and sat back down.

“Is there something you wanted to talk about, Domoki?” I asked.

“No, not at all,” he responded, refusing to look me in the eye. “You are an adult Dragon. I should not and will not push you into doing things that you do not want to do…” then his voice got quieter, as he continued, “as long as you are happy.”

I most certainly was _not _a Dragon, and Domoki knew that, but this was not a time for semantics.

“Domoki,” I responded, “I've been getting a lot of mixed signals from you. So lately, I've tried to give you some space while you decide what it is you want between me and you. If you've figured that out, I want to know.”

Domoki blushed furiously.

“B… b… b… between us?” he asked, feigning innocence. “What do you mean?” He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, but I noticed when he settled back down again, he was just a bit closer to me than he had been before.

I decided not to let him get away with the innocent act any longer. He had started making dirty jokes, ones that actually made sense, which meant he understood the subject matter, at least to some degree.

“That's cute, Domoki,” I said, “but I know you're not quite that naive. You know what I mean.”

I placed my hand gently on his knee and he did not shy away.

“I care for you a great deal, Domoki,” I began, “and unless I'm reading you completely wrong, you feel something for me too. I am yours for the taking, if you want me, but you have to actually tell me what you want. You can't just leave me on hold indefinitely and then act hurt when I seek comfort elsewhere. That's not fair to me.”

Domoki finally looked up and met my gaze.

“I... I... I care for you!” he insisted. “More than anyone I've ever met before.”

He looked down at my hand on his knee, and gently placed his own hand on top of it.

“When you are in the front of battle my heart tightens with fear for you. I remember the time I wasn't strong enough to keep you out of the fire at the glassworks. It hurts me to think that our enemies almost had you. I don't want to lose you. Ever! I start shooting at every enemy I see and hear because if they are dead, you can't be hurt. I don't feel strong enough for you. I mean sure when Pigeon died I was hurt and I kept her body safe and got it to Magnimar where we could raise her… but I was thinking, at least, and I thought I could still save her. I don't think I could save you because I would stop thinking if you died. I lose myself to think that can happen. I've never been in love before... but if this is what love feels like... I'd like to be with you.”

I finally had an explanation as to why Domoki was killing every enemy we came across – he loved me, and was trying to protect me. It all made sense now. My thoughts were interrupted as Domoki tentatively leaned forward and kissed me. His lips were cool, and softer than I had imagined, given his stone-like appearance. I held on to the kiss, snaking my other hand up his back to rest on the back of his neck. After a few seconds, he pulled away, and I saw that he was blushing bright orange.

“Then you shall have what you ask for,” I said. “...but please go easy on the killing our enemies thing. Sometimes there is room for mercy, as well. You've been scaring me a little lately.”

“Yeah...” acknowledged Domoki, “I've been kinda scaring myself a little too. Just.... I have your back ok? I'll get stronger and better, and I'll try not to... overprotect. But can you help me out and just let me know when to hold my bow in battle? I'd like to keep you around as long as I can.”

I smiled. His overprotectiveness was adorable, in a way, although I was certain our enemies did not see it that way.

“Don't you worry about me, Domoki,” I reassured him. “I'm too pretty to die, remember?”

Domoki laughed. I pulled back a little to put his face into focus, for while I still could not pretend that Domoki was pretty, his face did have its own sort of charm to it. His brown eyes were clear and deep, and one eyelid drooped just a little more than the other, like a lopsided puppy. As I drew back, I noticed also that the pieces of Domoki’s shattered teacup were still littered across his lap.

“Here, let me fix that teacup for you,” I said, as I began to gather up the shards.

“Thank you,” said Domoki.

When I had all the pieces together, I arranged them in front on me in their approximate places and cast the _mending_ charm. I focused on making it whole again, this small token of a thing that represented the object of my affection in more ways than one. It was only a teacup, but it was _his _teacup, and it had a little stone on the side to remind me of that fact. The pieces slowly began to move at my direction, slotting themselves into their places. Soon the cracks that separated them from each other melted away, leaving the teacup whole again. I picked it up gingerly and inspected the finished product. It was just as it had been. I smiled and carefully handed it back to him.

“Where did you get this tea set, anyway?” I asked. “It’s very nice.”

“Oh, umm…” started Domoki, hesitantly, “…it was a gift. From Pigeon.”

I raised one eyebrow, inquisitively.

“Asclepius is buying you expensive gifts now, is she?” I teased.

“It’s… umm…”

Domoki stumbled over his words.

“Relax, Domoki,” I assured him. “It’s ok. You’re allowed to have friends. I’m not worried about losing you to Asclepius.”

Domoki did relax a little at this, and I planted another kiss upon his lips to reassure him that I really was ok.

“Well,” I said, “it really is getting late. I can go now, if you like. I promise I won’t go out. Straight to bed with me, I’ll be good.”

“I… um… If you don’t mind,” he answered, “you’re welcome to stay the night.”

◊◊◊

I did not take Domoki’s innocence from him that night. He was new to all of this, and I wanted him to take the time to fully enjoy each new experience. I _did_ fall asleep in his arms though, and that alone was better than what I could have had with any man I’d picked up at the bar. This was the beginning of an adjustment period for me as well as I learned to sleep on the floor (Domoki still refused to sleep on beds, and I resolved to let him keep that constant as so many other things were changing for him).

When I woke in the morning, there was a crick in my neck, and my right hip was sore, but as my consciousness slowly drifted back to me, the next thing I noticed was the earthy scent of fresh moss, and I remembered where I was and what had happened the night before. I inhaled slowly, drinking in the scent of him. In that moment wanted nothing more than to run my hands over his entire body, taking in every inch of him.

Unfortunately, the next thing I became aware of was the light. The light streamed in the window boldly, weaving its way between the fibers of the heavy curtains. Judging by the brightness of the room, the sun must be high in the sky by now. We had overslept. Today we were supposed to be heading out to Lake Stormunder, and the rest of the group usually liked to get an early start on things.

I planted a kiss on Domoki’s chest, where my head was resting, then sat up and stretched. He was already awake, and I felt his gaze resting on me as I stretched. Soon he sat up as well, gently pulled my hair aside and planted a row of kisses down the back of my neck.

“Well, good morning, Domoki,” I said.

“Good morning, my love,” he said.

I was going to have to get used to him calling me “my love” – it was a long time since I’d used that word for anyone but family (Ameiko counted, though she was not of my blood), and I didn’t normally use it lightly. But Domoki had come right out and used that blessed four letter word even before our first kiss, and while I wasn’t yet ready to say it back to him, I found it didn’t bother me that he used it.

“How long were you awake?” I asked.

“About an hour,” he replied casually.

“You could have woken me up,” I protested. “I’ve overslept. We’ll be late for breakfast.”

“You looked so peaceful, I didn’t want to disturb you,” he explained.

I turned my head towards him, seeking out his lips with my own. Domoki met them eagerly, and it was some time before I could extract myself.

“Domoki,” I said, “how do you want to do this in term of… telling people? Do you want to try to keep it secret for a while? Everyone’s awake by now, so I can’t promise nobody will see my leaving your room, but… I could always fly out the window.”

“Why would we keep it secret?” he asked, sounding genuinely confused. “I’m not ashamed of you.”

“I know you’re not ashamed of me, but… remember what it was like for me in Turtleback Ferry? Once you’re out of the closet, some people will hate you for no good reason, and I’d like to protect you from that, at least at first. I don’t want your first experience of love to be tarnished by hateful bigots.”

“What is this closet? Where does the closet come in?” asked Domoki, earnestly.

I laughed.

“It’s a figure of speech,” I explained. “When people don’t know you’re gay, you’re said to be ‘in the closet’.”

“I see,” he said. He pause a moment, taking this in, then smiled at me, running his fingers lightly down my jaw.

“Urhador, it’s ok,” he said. “You don’t have to protect me. I’m not going to hide my love for you because of what other people think. I can’t say it will always be easy, but… I’ll take it as it comes, and I’ll take my strength from you.”

He gazed into my eyes for a few moments, then continued.

“Besides, I think if you flew out the window, it would be _more_ conspicuous, not less.”

◊◊◊

Domoki and I headed downstairs for breakfast, and as we entered the common room, he reached for my hand. I let him take it. If this was how and when he wanted to come out, I would follow his lead. The other five members of our party were already there, as I’d expected, and as we took our places at the table, I watched for reactions. Asclepius smiled. Tenebis raised an eyebrow at me, but said nothing. Ulrick rolled his eyes. Steranis and Edyan were engaged in a discussion on botany and did not seem to notice (or if they did, they hadn’t a single fuck to give). We got some glares from other patrons of the inn, but they all had the good sense not to yell anything. Overall, the reactions were pretty underwhelming, and I was thankful for that.


	20. Runeforge Gate

It took a week and a half to fly to Lake Stormunder. No one gave us trouble on the way. It seemed the locals had learned not to mess with us.

In the evenings, we would find a clearing and land, and Edyan would summon his magic cottage while I started a campfire. It would have made more logical sense to wait until the cottage was summoned, and build the fire in the indoor fireplace to heat the cottage, but I was enjoying the great outdoors. Besides, as the fire died down and the others trickled away to bed, Domoki and I were awarded with a few minutes of privacy before we too headed inside. It was during these evenings up late by the fire that I gradually introduced Domoki to the ways of love. It was winter, and there was a chill in the air, but it was warm by the fire, and I’d stolen a dire bear pelt from Jorgenfist which was warm and soft and big enough for two to snuggle in.

He was more at ease out here than he had been back at the inn in Magnimar, and as we moved into the mountains, nearer to his home, he seemed more at ease. When it started to snow, he barely seemed to notice the cold, and I had to remind him to put on a shirt. He got more and more reluctant to go inside at all now, even at night. However, I maintained my ultimatum that if he was sleeping outside, so was I, and Domoki always acquiesced and entered the safety of the cabin for the night. As much as it seemed that nothing around here was willing to attack us, neither of us were about to let our guard down quite so quickly. We slept on the cabin floor, nestled in the comfort of each other’s arms. We got some odd looks the first night, but after that, they left us alone. One night, as we were lying on the cabin floor, drifting off to sleep, I got up the courage to ask him a question I had been wondering about for some time now.

“Domoki,” I whispered.

“Yes?”

“Does your monastic order have rules about… relationships? And if so, are you breaking all of them?”

“I don’t know,” he answered, with a note of mischievousness in his voice, “I skipped most of my classes, remember?”

I struggled to keep my laughter down, not wanting to disturb anyone else.

“How very convenient,” I observed.

“I suppose so,” agreed Domoki.

“So did you not get any sex-ed at all?” I asked. “Not even abstinence-only?”

“No,” he answered. “Although it occurs to me,” he continued, the note of mischievousness creeping back in, “that if they did not want me to find out about it, they should not have taught me how to read.”

“The implications of that last statement are tantalizing,” I whispered, taking a quick break from what I was saying to nibble on his ear. “What have you been reading?”

“Oh… ummm…” stumbled Domoki, suddenly bashful again. “One might call it a… romance novel.”

“Mmmmm,” I breathed into his ear, “how _delightful_. You know, it occurs to me, that even if they had _not _taught you how to read, you wouldn’t have been _completely_ lost. They do make… _illustrated_ books on the topic.”

“Do they now?” asked Domoki.

“They do,” I affirmed.

“Hmm,” he whispered. “I can see how that might be appealing… to someone who did not have a perfect specimen of the humanoid body to look at whenever he pleased.”

“Was that pride, Domoki?” I asked.

“What? No. No. I was talking about you,” he whispered quickly, seeming quite embarrassed by my joking accusation.

“Oh,” I whispered back. “Well, thank you. I’m flattered. But _you _are the one whose body resembles a marble statue carved by Shelyn herself.”

It was completely dark in the cabin, but I could _feel_ the heat on Domoki’s cheek as he blushed furiously.

“I’ve been told by a reliable source, though, that my face is kinda fucked up,” Domoki quipped.

“It’s grown on me. Kind of like how lichen grows on you,” I teased, lightly tracing a finger over the patch of lichen that clung to his shoulder.

Domoki chuckled and raised his hand to trace the contours of the scales that armoured my neck.

“Shut the fuck up,” called out Ulrick, from across the room. “Some of us are trying to sleep.”

◊◊◊

Lake Stormunder, when we arrived, really was steaming. The hot spring fed lake nestled among the snowy peaks called out to me, begging me to fold my wings and dive into in from above. I resisted the temptation, of course, for I did not yet know what kind of ambush awaited us here.

We flew all the way around Rimeskull, taking in the sights and making note of possible hiding places. The seven stone faces loomed on a plateau on the Western slope, arranged in a wide circle facing inward. Each was twenty feet tall, and the circle of them at least one hundred feet across. We flew down towards them and landed some distance away.

Edyan pulled out is transcription of the poem that had led us here, and read aloud a stanza:

_Each stone the grace of seven lords,_

_One part of key each ruler hoards;_

_If offered spells and proper prayer;_

_Take seven keys and climb the stair._

“Well,” I said, “I can offer spells. Asclepius, have you any idea what the proper prayers would be? And if we dare to utter them?”

“I don’t know,” said Asclepius. “To Nethys, the God of Magic, spells _are_ prayers in and of themselves.”

I looked to Edyan to see if he had anything to add. He shrugged.

“Very well then,” I said. “If nobody objects, I’m going to enter the circle and start casting spells.”

“_I_ object,” said Domoki.

“Why?” I asked. “Because you don’t think it’ll work, or because you’re afraid for my personal safety?”

Domoki did not answer that, but his silence was an answer in itself.

“That’s what I thought,” I said. “Keep your bow drawn and be ready to shoot anything that attacks me, if that makes you any happier about it. But I’m going to do this.”

Domoki looked disappointed, but he strung his bow and nodded to me.

I cast fire resistance on myself, and then, after a moment’s hesitation, on Domoki as well. Then I turned and strode into the circle of statues. I turned slowly about within the circle, inspecting each of the faces. Soon I came to the one I was looking for: a stern looking man with sharp features, a pointed goatee, and five gemstones set into his forehead.

“Is this one Karzoug?” I asked Edyan.

“Yes,” he confirmed. “There he is, the source of all our troubles.”

“I shall leave him for last, then,” I said. I turned to the next statue, a bald man with Thassilonian runes carved all over his face. “Which one is this?”

“That is Krune, the Runelord of Sloth,” he answered. “You’ll need conjuration magic.”

I flipped through my mental list of spells and focused on one from the conjurations school: _acid splash_. I cast it, and threw the bolt of acid to the ground in front of me. I waited. Nothing happened.

“I’m going to approach the statue,” I said. Domoki drew his bow as I strode towards the statue. I stopped five feet from its base and cast the spell again.

The sound of stone grinding against stone drew my attention upwards. The statue was moving, as if its jaw was on a giant hinge. When it came to a rest, the statue’s mouth was hanging open, and a small golden key lay inside. I flew up and reached inside, retrieving the key, and half expecting the mouth to slam shut with my arm still inside. It did not. I passed the key to Tenebis, and moved on to the next statue: a bitter old woman, her face lined with wrinkles and discontent.

“Belimarius. Envy. Abjuration,” informed Edyan.

I approached the statue and cast _shield_, and sure enough, the grinding sound came again and the statue opened its mouth to reveal the second key. I handed it off to Tenebis and continued.

The next statue featured a young woman with long flowing hair making bedroom eyes.

“I presume this one is the Runelord of Lust,” I said, dryly.

“You are correct,” said Edyan. “Sorshen. Enchantment.”

I approached the statue and cast _charm person_. Though there did not seem to be a mind present in the statue to be charmed, I tried it anyway, and the mouth did once again open to show the third key. Before I could take it, though, a flaming arrow whizzed past me, past the statue, and impacted something on the other side. My view was blocked by the statue in my way, but before I could wonder what Domoki was shooting at, my question was answered.

“Unibear!” yelled Edyan.

It was the ambush we had been waiting for. I quickly grabbed the key and flew up over the top of the statue to get a look at the supposed Unibear.

The enormous white bear reared up on its hind legs and roared, then dropped to all fours and charged toward Tenebis, head down and horn pointed forwards. Tenebis dodged deftly up out of its way and the bear reared up again, pawing at the air below Tenebis’ feet.

A movement off to my right tore my attention away from the Unibear. Something else was coming at us, and though it was almost perfectly camouflaged against the snow, as it moved I made out the outline of a white Dragon.

The Dragon noticed it had been spotted. With two giant flaps of its wings, it launched itself off of the snow covered landscape toward us. As it got near to us, it breathed out a giant blast of cold mist that solidified into ice on every surface it touched. For a brief moment, my wings were immobilized by the thin coat of ice that covered them, but before I hit the ground I broke free. My prison of ice shattered and crashed to the ground and I inhaled deeply in preparation for my counterattack. The Dragon clawed and tore at Steranis, who was hacking away at its tough scales in search of a vulnerability. Advancing towards it, I opened my mouth wide and breathed out fire. The Dragon threw back its head and roared in pain as my fire hit. Steranis took the opportunity to plunge his polearm into the soft flesh of the Dragon’s armpit. Arrows flew, and while most of them glanced off the Dragon’s scales, a few hit at just the right angle to lodge themselves under a scale and stay there. The flaming arrows lit up the points on the Dragon that had been hit, illuminating its weak spots and burning away at its resolve.

The Dragon was wearing down, but so was Steranis, and soon enough one of them would be taking a fatal blow. Giving up on Steranis, the Dragon charged forward, barreling right past me and straight toward Domoki, from whence the pesky flaming arrows came. Visions of Domoki lying face down in the Ettin’s cave flooded into my mind. Not again.

“No!” I heard myself yelling, in Draconic, “Get back here, you snowy freak!”

I flew after it as fast as I could, but I couldn’t keep up. In this moment, Domoki was the master of his own fate, and there was nothing I could do to help him.

Before the Dragon reached him, Domoki had the time to fire off one more arrow. Instead, he drew four at once, fitting them onto the string one above the next. Drawing them back, he waited. It was only a second or two, but it felt like minutes. Just as the Dragon was about to overcome him, he loosed his arrows straight into its eye. The flaming arrows hit with a sickening squelch, lodging themselves deep into the Dragon’s brainpan. Domoki ducked. The Dragon, still carried by its momentum, flew right over his head and thumped to the ground behind him. I breathed out a sigh of relief.

“Domoki, I think I might have to stop setting your arrows on fire,” I warned. “It makes you a target.”

“That’s how I know I’m being effective,” he argued. “Besides, if you didn’t set my arrows on fire, we wouldn’t be ‘team flame’.”

“I _told_ you not to call us that,” I said, feigning exasperation, but his joke had lightened the mood enough that I was able to think straight again.

I still don’t think he understood what was funny about calling us ‘team flame,’ but he knew from experience that it got a laugh, and he was willing to use that.

I looked over to were the Unibear had been to see that Tenebis and Ulrick had successfully dealt with it as well.

After we’d all taken a moment to catch our breaths, and Asclepius had healed those of us who needed it, I returned to my previous task of retrieving the keys from the Runelord statues.

The fourth statue was Xanderghul, the Runelord of Pride and Illusion magic: a handsome man with sharp features and a high stand up collar of peacock feathers. I cast _rainbow pattern_. I took the fourth key.

Next was an angry old woman: Alaznist, the Runelord of Wrath and Evocation magic. A burst of my trademark fire persuaded her to give up her prize.

The sixth statue was of a morbidly obese man. When Edyan identified that one as Zutha, the Runelord of Gluttony and Necromancy, Domoki interrupted before I could cast a spell.

“You… you don’t know any necromancy spells, do you, Urhador?” he asked, nervously.

“Domoki…” I started. “Necromancy is often misunderstood…”

Domoki looked alarmed.

“It’s not just about raising undead,” I continued, “which I assure you, I have never done. Necromancy is the manipulation of the forces of life and unlife, and I do, on occasion, use it to influence our enemies. My _fear_ spell comes from that school.”

“Oh…” said Domoki, a little unsure of himself. “Okay.”

I made a mental note to further reassure him about this matter latter, but for now I cast _fear_ and collected the sixth key.

I then gathered my wits to face Karzoug, the Runelord of Greed whom I had saved for last. His school of magic was Transmutation. I cast _mending_, the simple charm I had used to fix Domoki’s teacup after he had shattered it in what I had come to think of as ‘the teacup incident’.

I had, for some reason, expected something different, and probably terrible, to happen when I activated his statue; but it did not. His mouth opened on its hinge with a deep grinding sound just like all the others had done, and I retrieved the key inside without incident. I handed the seventh and final key to Tenebis.

“What now?” I asked.

“Well,” suggested Edyan, “we just killed a Dragon. Dragons have hoards. Let’s go find it.”

“Really, we’re going treasure hunting now?” asked Domoki, a bit incredulous. “Shouldn’t we do something with these keys that Urhador has so _dangerously_ collected for us?”

“Oh, hush,” said Edyan. “We’ll buy you a pretty bow.”

“I don’t need a pretty bow. Rainmaker works just fine. Besides: why would I need something pretty? I have him,” answered Domoki, placing an arm around my shoulder and giving me a squeeze.

I had not thought, until that moment, that Domoki was capable of making me blush, but now I found that he was. Asclepius smiled warmly, and Ulrick rolled his eyes at us.

“Come on, Domoki,” I mumbled. “We’re going to find the Dragon hoard. We don’t know what to do with these keys yet anyway.”

“So, where do we start looking?” I asked.

“Hush,” said Edyan, “I’m concentrating.”

I looked at Edyan at little more closely to see that his eyes were rolled back into his head, exposing only the whites. He must have cast some sort of divination spell while Domoki was busy embarrassing me.

Edyan was silent for another minute or so, then he dismissed the spell and his eyes rolled back into his face.

“This way,” he said, taking flight.

We followed.

◊◊◊

The Dragon’s lair was located inside the mountain, predictably. The entrance to the cavern was guarded by four large Earth Elementals. Domoki, seeing his kin, flew up to the front of our group on his magic carpet to address them. He bowed his head in greeting.

“Cousins,” he said, in Terran.

“Human mutt,” replied one of the elementals, gruffly.

Domoki ignored the insult.

“We mean you no harm,” he said. “We only wish to pass peacefully.”

“We cannot allow that.”

“Why not?” asked Domoki.

“We are bound here. We are to prevent anyone from passing save for Arkrhyst.”

“Arkrhyst is dead,” explained Domoki. “You are released from your service.”

“It does not work that way,” refuted the elemental.

“Then how might you be released from your service?” asked Domoki.

“Only by death,” answered the elemental, gravely.

There was something about the way he (she? it?) said that that tipped me off that this was a request, not simply a statement of fact. They _wanted_ to die. They were held to this place by some sort of powerful magic (those who knew magic did not normally use the word “bound” lightly) and forced to defend it. Death was their only way home. I was not the only one who picked up on this.

We freed them by the sword. They fought back half-heartedly (I believe they were compelled to) but soon fell to our might. Domoki shed a tear. Flying over to Domoki, I took him into my arms to console him.

“They’re home now,” I whispered in his ear. “In the Plane of Earth.”

“I know,” answered Domoki. But he held on to me for another minute before he let me go.

The passage into the mountain was wide enough for us to advance in formation (it had to be, to accommodate the size the Dragon who inhabited it). It was level for the first little while, then plunged downwards suddenly. I suspect this was supposed to be a trap, but since we were all flying, it was a very ineffective one. Flying down this tunnel, we emerged into the Dragons lair.

It was spectacular. The walls of the immense cavern sparkled with sheets of ice. The floor was drowned in a sea of coins. Precious gems glinted from within the rolling waves of that sea, along with figurines and jewellery and the armour and weapons of adventurers who had been less fortunate than we.

Out of the sea of treasure rose eight pillars of ice which stretched to the ceiling. One large central monolith dominated the center of the formation, and the other seven pillars were arranged in a circle around it. Each was carved extensively with Thassilonian runes in strange, spiral patterns.

We gathered up the most valuable bits of the treasure before we moved on to inspect the pillars. As I got close to them, I noticed that each one contained a key hole on its inner face, about 4 feet off the “ground”.

Tenebis pulled out the seven keys that we had collected from the statues outside.

“Well,” I said. “We are the seven. There are seven Runelords, seven keys, seven pillars. It seems clear what we are meant to do.”

Tenebis handed out the keys, one to each of us. Domoki refused to take one.

“Tenebis, give me Domoki’s key,” I said.

He did.

I flew over to Domoki and landed next to him.

“I can’t do it, Urhador” he said, his voice trembling. “There’s strange magic going on here, and I don’t understand it, and I can’t shake the feeling that something terrible is going to happen.”

“Domoki,” I said quietly, taking his hands in mine. “You have known since before you set out on this quest that you had a holy mission. It’s why you followed Pigeon when she approached you, and it’s why you’ve gone along with everything we’ve had to do so far. It’s your destiny, Domoki. Don’t try to shake it.”

I placed the key in this palm and gently folded his fingers over it.

“Do it for yourself… or do it for Pigeon… or, failing that, do it for me. I _need _to know what’s waiting for us on the other side of this gate.”

Domoki held my gaze for a long moment. Then he took a deep breath and nodded his head.

“For you,” he said.

“Thank you.”

I wrapped my arm around his waist and we headed back over to the rest of the group. Asclepius shot me a look that asked, wordlessly, _‘is everything ok?’_. I nodded.

Each of us took our places in front of a pillar. We placed the keys in their slots, and on my count, we turned them in unison.

The pillar in front of me began to glow a faint shade of violet. A soft humming sound filled the air in cave. I looked around me. Each of the seven pillars was glowing a different colour of the rainbow: red, orange, yellow, blue, indigo, violet. The central pillar was glowing as well, a different colour on each face. Then it began to ripple. Then in began to spin. The large monolith spun faster and faster until it seemed to disappear in a rainbow vortex, leaving behind a shimmering surface at its base. What was left behind looked like a perfectly circular pool of water, still glistening in every colour of the rainbow as if topped by a film of soap. It rippled gently. I walked toward it, transfixed.

Instead of my own reflection, what I saw in the pool was a stone corridor, no different in appearance from the many we’d travelled in our adventure thus far. And yet, I got the feeling that this corridor was in a place far away. It was not under the mountain with us. It was, perhaps, not even in Golarion.

Without even looking behind me to see if anyone was following, I stepped into the portal.


	21. Envy

I tumbled through the portal and fell to the ground. I’m not sure why I didn’t think to fly through it, but then, I hadn’t really been thinking at all went I stepped through. As I picked myself up, I observed the wide stone corridor in which I stood. It was cold, and stark, devoid of any markings that might give any clue as to what or where it was.

Tenebis was the first to follow me through the portal. He had the presence of mind to use his wings, unlike myself, so he descended to the floor gracefully, followed by Steranis, then Domoki on his magic carpet, and then Ulrick, Asclepius, and Edyan.

With all of us accounted for, we proceeded down the hallway. There was a dead end in one direction, so we took the other, and it led us out to a large circular room, easily a hundred feet across, with a high domed ceiling. Eight corridors jutted out from it, evenly spaced around its circumference like spokes on a wheel. The one we had emerged from was empty, but the other seven were guarded by statues matching the seven stone faces outside. In the centre of the room was a raised dais containing a pool of bubbling, iridescent liquid. The waters radiated an overwhelmingly strong magical aura, of every school of magic at once. I flew towards it. As I got nearer, the magic flooded my body and my mind, and I knew that if I moved any closer it would take over. I forced myself to stop. I couldn’t go any closer until I knew what this was, or what it would do to me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Tenebis also advancing, and he got a little closer than I did before he too stopped and turned back.

We gathered at the edge of the room.

“We should explore the wings before we try to do anything with that pool,” suggested Tenebis.

I couldn’t be more in agreement.

“Well,” I said. “We’ve got seven Runelords. Where shall we begin? I’d prefer not starting with Karzoug or Alaznist.”

“Karzoug, I understand,” said Domoki, “why not Alaznist?”

“Because he’s the Runelord of Wrath, and that sounds more dangerous than the others.”

“Fair enough,” admitted Domoki.

“How about Belimarius,” suggested Ulrick, “envy doesn’t seem so bad.”

No one had any counter-suggestions, so envy it was.

We filed past the statue of the bitter old woman and into the hallway behind her. I was half expecting the statue to come alive and try to stop us, but it did not. However, as we entered the hallway, a booming voice echoed down it: the voice of an old woman, amplified by magic.

“Halt!” commanded the voice, “These are the Abjurant Halls of Envy! You are not worthy! Your weak powers shall be crushed and you shall die!”

The voice spoke the truth. I was not worthy. In that moment, I was as certain of my unworthiness as I was of my own name. A wave of nausea passed over me and I suppressed the urge to vomit. Domoki came up beside me and took my hand.

“What’s wrong, my Dragon?” he asked, his voice gentle and calm. “You look ill.”

“Nothing,” I said, “just wondering if the voice was right.”

“What voice?” asked Domoki.

“You didn’t hear it?”

“No,” he said.

“Of course… of course… you must be worthy…” I puzzled. “You go on. I’ll be right behind you.”

“I’m not leaving you here like this,” he insisted. “I can tell there’s something wrong. What did the voice say?”

I further suppressed my nausea, willing myself to force it out of my mind.

“It doesn’t matter,” I answered. “I’m fine, I promise. Go on. I really will be right behind you.”

Domoki searched my eyes for another moment, then nodded and went on ahead. I followed slowly, hesitantly, behind him.

The others had stopped at the entrance to a mostly empty room. In the center of the room, protruding from the floor, was a silver rod, three feet tall. From the rod sparked great bolts of lightning, dancing about the room and striking the aged, worn, and chipped walls over and over again. Human bones littered the edges of the room, mixed with old and decayed adventuring gear.

As usual, Tenebis was the first to enter the room. I expected the lightning to strike him down, but though it did hit him, he was far from downed. In fact, the lightning seemed to pass rather harmlessly through or around him, I couldn’t quite tell, and continue on its path.

“I think it’s just for show,” announced Tenebis, and the rest of the party advanced slowly behind him.

We turned a corner into another narrow hallway, or rather, most of us did. Edyan seemed to be more fascinated with the lightning rod, and had gotten rather too close for comfort in order to examine it. I didn’t worry too much about it. Edyan always seemed to know what he was doing, unlike most of us.

Around the corner we were attacked by a couple of seemingly sentient oozes. Fire had little effect on them, and we found ourselves slowly retreating to avoid being engulfed by them. First Asclepius, then Domoki, then Ulrick were forced back into the lightning room, and as I neared it, noticing that the soft crackling sound of the lightning had gotten louder and more frequent.

“Get ready!” announced Edyan.

Ready for what, I was not certain, but apparently Tenebis and Ulrick knew what, for I saw them both casting _dispel magic _along with Edyan and holding the charge in preparation for whatever was about to happen. Then suddenly it dawned on me: Belimarius’ school of magic was abjuration. _Mage’s disjunction._ The pulse of energy that was about to be released was meant to render all magic inert. Our weapons were magic. Our armour was magic. Every one of us had magic items on us that enhanced our abilities. The non-native flyers had their magic carpets. And on top of that, every protective spell that we had cast upon ourselves could be cancelled. My realisation came too late. I didn’t have time to prepare my own counterspell, but I managed to duck around the corner just as the pulse went off.

When we had finished off the oozes, we took stock of our belongings. Edyan flipped through his spellbook to find only blank pages – it had been wiped clean. The rest of the losses were less devastating – Asclepius had lost her ring of invisibility, Ulrick’s magic carpet had fallen to the ground, and Tenebis’ magic backpack, larger on the inside, had lost that quality, causing everything inside it to spill out on to the floor. Some potions and scrolls were wiped.

In any case the rod had stopped crackling (no thanks to me) and it seemed we were safe for the moment.

There was one more corridor off of this room, and we cleared the rubble from it and headed down it to see what was there. In this third and final room, to my surprise, there was nothing immediately dangerous. On the far side of this room stood a pool of perfectly still liquid. It was silver in colour, and metallic, and the mirrored surface reflected our surroundings flawlessly. It did not radiate magic.

Edyan finally looked up from his empty spellbook and stared into the pool. He dropped a pebble into it, and the surface rippled like water.

“Quicksilver?” he asked, out loud, but more to himself than anyone else.

“What would anyone need so much quicksilver for?” asked Ulrick.

“I don’t know,” answered Edyan. “I’m not entirely convinced it _is _quicksilver. It _looks_ like quicksilver. But I’ve learned, over the years, not to jump to conclusions.”

I passed Edyan an empty bottle.

“Want to take a sample of it?” I asked.

“I’m not entirely sure I want to touch it,” admitted Edyan.

“Fine,” I said. I walked up to the edge of the pool myself, and, careful to keep my fingers out of the liquid, held the bottle halfway under the surface. The metallic liquid flowed in, thick like honey. I corked the bottle and stored it carefully in my pack.

Asclepius blinked out of sight.

“Looks like the ring of invisibility is working again,” I observed.

Edyan opened his spellbook again, hopeful, but its pages were still blank. He sighed.

“I’m sorry about your spellbook, Edyan,” said Asclepius’ voice, out of the aether. “We’ll get you another one. There’s bound to be a wizard down here somewhere.”

Tenebis’ magic backpack also started working again, and when he had finished packing everything back inside, we headed back down the long entrance corridor to the hub of the wheel.

◊◊◊

There was some discussion about trying another hallway, but most of our spells were spent. It had been a long day, and it was time to rest. Although we were already indoors, Edyan set up his magic cottage inside the central room. It was more for safety than it was for its protection from the elements, anyhow.

I sat outside with Domoki for a few minutes before going in with the others.

“Well… that was an interesting day,” I said, leaning my head back against the wall. I took Domoki’s hand, and intertwined my fingers with his.

“It was,” said Domoki. “I’m glad you’re ok.”

“I’m glad _you’re _ok,” I answered. “That Dragon almost had you.”

“Nonsense,” said Domoki. “I was perfectly in control of the situation the entire time.”

I laughed aloud. Domoki may have been an excellent lie detector, but he was a terrible liar.

“Ok, you’re right,” he admitted. “That Dragon almost had me.”

“So… did you want to talk about… necromancy? I hadn’t mentioned to you that I used it, and I know that’s a controversial thing, so I probably should have, and…”

“No,” interrupted Domoki. “It’s fine. I don’t understand magic, and I shouldn’t judge people based on things I don’t understand.”

“Do you want to?” I asked.

“Do I want to judge you? No, of course not…”

“No, I meant ‘do you want to understand magic?’ I could teach you about it, if you want to know more.”

“No, that’s alright,” he said. “I’ll never be able use magic anyway. They tested me for magical aptitude at the monastery. I got a five.”

“A five is not so bad…”

“…out of a hundred.”

“Oh.”

“Some have it, and some don’t. Besides, understanding it would just make _you _that much less fascinating. I like to keep some of the mystery.”

Domoki raised my hand to his lips and kissed it.

“You know what I just realized, Domoki?”

“What?”

“We haven’t eaten anything since breakfast.”

“You’re right. I hadn’t even noticed that. I don’t think anyone else did, either. They all just went to bed without dinner.”

“Funny thing is – I’m not hungry.”

“Me neither,” observed Domoki.

“There’s something odd about this place,” I said.

“Yes,” he agreed. “There is.”

“Well, we should try to get some sleep, at least.”

“Yes.”

Domoki stood and led me into the magic cottage. We lay down on the floor together, as we always did. He lay on his back, I on my right side, curled up against him. I used his arm as a pillow beneath my neck. My left arm and left leg sprawled over top of him. I closed my eyes and tried to sleep.

Sleep did not come. For the first time in this whole adventure, I felt truly afraid. I had felt afraid before, of course, I was no fool, but it had been nothing like this. I had always acknowledged the possibility of death on a dangerous mission such as ours, but it had never felt as real as it did now. In this moment, I was more than half convinced that I would die tomorrow.

“Domoki,” I whispered.

“Yes, my love?”

“I’m afraid,” I admitted freely.

“What are you afraid of, my Dragon?”

“That voice, in the long hallway. You really didn’t hear it, did you?”

“I did not. What did say?”

“It said I was not worthy. It said I would die if I continued. And I believed it. I think I still believe it.”

“That’s what had you scared sick back there?”

“Yes. But I don’t think it was just the voice. I felt sick the entire time I was in there. As soon as we left, I was fine again. Still afraid, but not nauseous anymore.”

“Why do you think you are not worthy?” he asked. “_I_ think you’re worthy.”

“I don’t know, exactly,” I admitted. “But Belimarius was the Runelord of Envy. Perhaps I’m guilty of envy.”

“Perhaps.”

“I had never considered envy to be one of my greater sins. Pride? Sure. Lust? Absolutely. Wrath? Not until Tsuto, but definitely my greatest sin now. If I felt this sick going into Belimarius’ domain, what’s going to happen to me when we go down the hallway behind Alaznist?”

“I don’t know,” said Domoki. “But I do know one thing. You are too pretty to die.”

I smiled a half smile as Domoki echoed my own words back to me. I knew he would not be able to see it in the dark, but I made the effort anyway. I decided I trusted him enough to share the story behind that phrase.

“When I was twelve years old,” I started, “my baby sister was born. Lillian was such a joyful child, and as her big brother, I was always very protective of her. But Lillian was always sick, and no-one knew why. Every once in a while, my family would manage to scrape together enough money to take her to a temple for healing, and she would be better, for a time. But she would always get sick again.”

I took a deep breath. Domoki was listening attentively, but he did not interject anything. He placed his hand gently over top of mine and held it, comfortingly.  
  
“Every night, when Mother went to put her to bed,” I continued, “she would pray to the Gods to guard Lillian through the night. And Lillian would smile, and say _‘Don't worry, Mama. I'm too pretty for the Gods to let me die.’_ And Mother would smile back, and kiss her goodnight, and leave her to sleep.

“One afternoon, when Lillian was about eight - no one really expected her to live that long, but she did - I was sitting out in the garden with her. It was spring, and the day lilies were blooming. And out of the blue, she asked _‘Ÿridhrenor, do you know why I tell Mama that I'm too pretty for the Gods to let me die?’. _I told her no, for I knew that at eight years old, she was already too wise to truly believe it. And she turned to me and she said, in a tone so serene and peaceful:_ ‘I know I'm going to die. I'm not going to grow up, and have a job, and fall in love, like you, Ÿridhrenor. The Gods will come before then and take me away. It's coming soon, I can feel it. But there's no sense in letting Mama worry about it. And there's no sense in letting myself worry about it either. Look at the day lilies, Ÿridhrenor. Tomorrow, they will be gone, but today, they unfurl their petals and stretch up their faces to the Sun! They say to the world 'Look at me! I am beautiful! I am not afraid!' So when the Gods come for me, I'll be ready, Ÿridhrenor, but every day until then, I will let the Sun shine on my face, and I will smell the flowers, and I will be happy.’_ ”

I took a deep breath, and Domoki gave my hand a little squeeze before I continued.

“Lillian lived for another two years after that day, and she stood by her promise. Every day, no matter how sick she was, she would go outside and let the Sun shine on her face. And if she could not walk, she would have Father carry her, and she would smell the flowers, and she would smile.”

I paused a moment. The story was over, but I was not finished.

“So when I say ‘I'm too pretty to die,’ Domoki... it's a flirty joke, sure, but it's also a reminder to myself of that wisdom spouted by my little baby sister - that we are all mortal, and we never know when the Gods will come and snatch us away. But until that day, we will let the Sun shine upon our faces, and we will smell the roses, and we will live every day as if it's our last.

“So - if I do die tomorrow... I want you to know that I'm glad I got a chance to tell you how I feel about you... and I'm glad we got to spend these last few days together."

Domoki wrapped his arms around me and pulled me on top of him. I nuzzled my face into his chest. He leaned down and planted a kiss on the top of my head.

“You’re not going to die tomorrow, Urhador,” he said. “I won’t let you.”

I closed my eyes, and the steady, comforting sound of his heartbeat lulled me to sleep.


	22. Gluttony

I woke up to the earthy smell of fresh moss, the gentle thump of his heartbeat, and the feeling of his fingers running through my hair.

“Good morning, Domoki,” I mumbled.

“Good morning, my love,” he responded. “How was your sleep?”

“It was alright. It’s hard to stay afraid with your heartbeat pressed against my ear.”

“Good,” he said. His hand stopped stroking my hair and came to a rest in the spot between my shoulder blades.

“You didn’t have to stop,” I protested.

I felt his chest vibrate as he let out a low chuckle. He resumed stroking my hair.

“I’ve decided I like hair,” he said. “It’s soft, and it’s on you.”

“It’s still a novelty for you, isn’t it?” I asked, for Domoki himself was completely hairless all over, not just on his head.

“Yes, but I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of it,” he answered.

It was several minutes before I could convince myself to pry myself out of Domoki’s arms and get ready for another day. When I finally did, I left the cabin to find Edyan and Steranis already outside. Asclepius, Tenebis, and Ulrick came out to join us soon after.

“Is anyone hungry?” I asked.

Nobody really was.

“I think there’s some sort of sustenance field down here – we don’t get hungry,” suggested Edyan.

“That is one possibility,” I acknowledged. “The other is that it’s some sort of trap. We don’t _feel _hungry, but we still need food, and this place will slowly starve us to death if we don’t eat. I _hope_ that you’re right, but I _fear _that I am right.”

“Oh, don’t be so alarmist,” complained Ulrick.

I pulled out my trail rations of dried fruit, nuts, and hard cheese, and forced myself to eat some of it. Domoki served tea.

Then we prepared for battle.

◊◊◊

The next hallway we ventured down was the one guarded by Zutha, the Runelord of Gluttony and Necromancy. I don’t remember who suggested that, but none of us were feeling particularly gluttonous at the moment, and there was no better way to start a day than by slaughtering undead.

We filed past the statue of the grotesquely obese man and came to a set of closed stone double doors. Engraved over the doors was the phrase _‘the Ravenous Crypts of Gluttony’._ Tenebis heaved the doors slowly open, and soon a hoard of wraiths was attacking us. Tenebis and Steranis hacked away at them while Ulrick and Domoki shot from down the hallway. Edyan was useless without his spellbook, and I threw fireballs into the room (rather indiscriminately, since I had had the foresight to cast fire resistance on Steranis ahead of time, and Tenebis had his own fire resistance). The wraiths were easy to kill, but they kept coming.

“Stop with the fire!” yelled Tenebis, “It just makes them spawn more of themselves!” 

That made me feel rather useless, so I cast _haste_ on my allies instead, giving them a burst of speed with which to finish off the zombies on their own. When the zombies were finally eliminated, we proceeded into the room. The domed ceiling was decorated with dozens of stone skulls in the midst of feasting on flesh. On the opposite side of the room stood a second set of doors.

Through the doors and down a hallway, we found ourselves in a circular room with four corridors leading out from it. The floor of this room was not intact, but rather only a narrow bridge spanned from each corridor to the center of the room. Below these bridges, a deep pit descended into darkness. We were all flying, of course, but there was still some measure of comfort in having solid ground underneath oneself, especially when one is aware of things like antimagic fields and paralysis. As such, we all found ourselves flying more or less over top of the bridges rather than taking shortcuts across the void.

We began with the hallway on the left, which led to a long, narrow crypt. At it’s far end stood a lone gold sarcophagus, atop a white marble plinth. The lid of the sarcophagus was encrusted to jewels, and an image was carved into it, though I could not see it well from where I was hovering. Two stone statues stood guard in front of it. Lining the walls leading up to the plinth were at least a hundred small niches carved into the rock, each holding a bottle of expensive wine. I suspected the wine had long since turned, and nobody tried to salvage it (Joanos would have, but he wasn’t here anymore, I found myself thinking).

As Tenebis and Steranis approached the sarcophagus, the statues animated, revealing themselves to be stone golems. We took care of them in short order and Tenebis stood over the sarcophagus, reading the inscription out loud:

“Here lies Lord Anklerios Mankray Inib of the House of Inib: master vintner and beloved husband and father. An assassin’s blade accomplished what hundreds of duels could not.”

Tenebis heaved aside the lid of the sarcophagus only to find that it was empty.

“Well, if the body’s been removed,” reasoned Ulrick, “it won’t be needing those gems on its sarcophagus. What do you say we chip them out?”

“I’d rather not get jumped while we’re doing it,” answered Steranis. “Let’s clear out the rest of this place and then come back for them.”

We backtracked to the circular room over the pit and took the opposite corridor. At the end of this corridor, behind a set of double doors, was a portal, crackling with energy and leading to some place dark and smoky.

“Where does it go?” asked Domoki.

“I think that’s the negative energy plane,” answered Asclepius. “Somebody’s been raising a lot of dead down here, recently, and he’s probably getting his power from this.”

I did not ask how she had deduced these things.

“How do we destroy it?” asked Tenebis.

“The usual way, I suspect,” said Asclepius. She gestured at the two pillars on either side of the portal. “I imagine if you hack at them long enough, the portal will close. The problem being what else will happen. It’s bound to release quite a lot of negative energy, and who knows what else, while you’re trying. It could just outright kill you.”

The room was very small, having only just enough room for the portal, and perhaps one creature to step out of it.

“Well, there’s only room for one of us in there,” reasoned Tenebis. “I’ll go in, close the door behind me so that whatever bad things happen don’t affect the rest of you, and I’ll holler if I need anything.”

“That does _not _sound like a good plan,” complained Asclepius.

“Oh, come on,” argued Tenebis. “Worst case scenario, I get killed, and you can reincarnate me.”

“You suffer from a lack of imagination, Tenebis,” said Asclepius, dryly. “There are considerably worse things that could happen.”

Tenebis was not listening though, and in he went, closing the door behind him. I heard his sword crash into the pillar and impact against stone, then an unearthly shriek.

“A little help in here?” called out Tenebis.

Steranis opened the door. An enormous beast of shadow was emerging from the portal. It had nowhere to go but out into the hallway with us, and though it was large and terrifying, it could not get past us. With great effort, we slew the beast, and we did not let Tenebis close the door again.

“On the plus side, now we know what happens with I attack the pillar!” he announced.

Seeing no other way about it, Tenebis put in another swing at the pillar. Another terrifying shadow beast, which we again defeated. On the third swing, the pillar toppled and the portal blinked out of existence.

Once again we returned to the bridges over the pit. Only one hallway remained.

The final hallway widened into an empty room, at the far end of which were two doors. We opened the door on the left, and filed down yet another corridor. Somehow, I found myself in front of Tenebis (don’t ask me how it happened) which was decidedly not a good place for a squishy sorcerer like myself to be. In the room at the end of this hall was some other terrifying form of undead. It was standing next to a table with a corpse on it, feasting on the dead flesh. The creature looked up and abandoned its feast, attacking the fresh meat that had just arrived in the room instead. It came at me with a pair of daggers and its teeth, which I took to the face before I managed to duck behind Tenebis.

My face still bleeding profusely, I backed off behind Steranis as well and resorted to long range spells. Fire did not affect it. I reached deep within my mind for more power. I pointed at the dread zombie and chains of light appeared out of thin air, wrapping themselves around it and pinning its limbs to its sides. It tried to dodge out of their way, but my conjured bindings were too fast for it. Satisfied that Tenebis and Steranis could now handle it without too much trouble, I turned back to find Asclepius.

She was nowhere to be seen. This was not especially surprising, since she spent most of her time in dangerous places being invisible.

Domoki was standing in front of the other door and shooting down the hallway, glancing the off the wall and into the creature I had just bound. The door opened behind him.

“Domoki! Behind you!” I warned, but it was too late. Another of the dread zombies was behind him and it hit him with both of its daggers before he had finished turning around. When he did finish turning around, he started unloading arrows into the zombie in front of him at point blank range. Domoki and the zombie traded wounds for some time as I desperately tried to replicate by trick with the chains of light on this one. This one was faster, though, and I had no such luck. Ulrick had turned around and was shooting the one in front of Domoki now. Domoki was retreating slowly, taking a step back before every arrow he loosed to give himself enough room to shoot. But the zombie closed the gap every time, slashing at Domoki again and again, and he was now oozing magma from several places at once.

The dread zombie took one more arrow to the neck and finally fell. Domoki sank to the ground. I rushed over to him. I held his head in my lap and applied pressure to his wounds.

“Ulrick! Find Pigeon!” I ordered.

Ulrick left, calling out for Asclepius. I didn’t understand why she wasn’t in the room with us, but clearly she wasn’t, or she would have been here by now.

Domoki looked up at me.

“Urhador, your face is bleeding,” he mumbled.

“What?” I asked. I had honestly forgotten my own injuries in my concern for him. “Oh, yes. Yes it is.”

“You should get Pigeon to look at that.”

“Sure thing, Domoki. After she looks at you.”

“Me? I’ll be fine. Don’t you worry about me. It’s just a flesh wound.”

At that moment Asclepius appeared in front of us. She placed her hands on Domoki and closed her eyes on concentrated. Bit by bit, Domoki’s wounds were knit together.

“Where the fuck were you, Asclepius?” I asked.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “one of the zombies forced its way into my mind. I had to run, I didn’t have a choice.”

“That’s very concerning,” I observed. “You’re saying that those zombies not only could see through your invisibility to know you were there, but were also skilled enough at enchantment magic to mind control you? I didn’t even notice either of them casting a spell.”

“Perhaps it wasn’t them, then. Someone else could be in here, watching us,” she suggested.

“Pigeon, you need to take a look at Urhador’s face,” interrupted Domoki.

“Yes, Domoki, I was getting to that,” she answered. “We had to fix you up first. You were bleeding out.”

Asclepius finished up with Domoki, then took care of my face while Steranis walked around the room suspiciously, feeling the walls for secret doors.

“Over here!” he called, when he was three quarters of the way around the room. “Asclepius, you may be correct.”

When Asclepius had finished checking the rest of us over, Tenebis slowly eased open the secret door and stepped through. Down one more narrow corridor, we emerged into an open room with a platform at the far end. Atop the platform was an operating table with a corpse strapped down to it. A man, not quite alive himself, stood over the body with a scalpel in one hand, casting a spell with the other. Separating us from the necromancer I caught the telltale sheen of a wall of force.

Tenebis began to cast a spell.

“What are you – ” started Asclepius, but before she had finished her question, Tenebis had finished his spell, disappeared, and reappeared on the other side of the wall of force.

The necromancer abandoned his work and turned to Tenebis.

Cursing him for his foolishness, the rest of us began to attack the wall, hoping to break through it before the necromancer was finished with Tenebis.

Tenebis attacked the necromancer full on, and while the necromancer dodged most of his blows, he did not return the attack – not physically. He continued to cast, and through the wall of force, I could see Tenebis’ fact screw up with the effort of resisting the necromancer’s magic. I could not hear the necromancer’s words, but I could see his gestures, and they were not familiar. The spells he was casting were not ones I knew.

“Fuck!” exclaimed Asclepius, from somewhere off to my right. “He’s trying to turn him the hard way, without killing him first. Get through that wall!”

I did not know how she knew that, but I did not relish the idea of fighting an undead Tenebis. I was already working as hard as I could to get through the wall, and there wasn’t much else I could do.

Tenebis stumbled, knocked off guard by the necromancer’s attack. He caught himself on the side of the table and regained his footing, spinning around to drive his sword up through the necromancer’s side. The necromancer looked down at his own body, impaled on Tenebis’ sword. Then he took hold of the sword by the blade with both hands, and pulled it out of himself. He did not bleed. Tenebis wrestled to regain control of his sword. The necromancer knocked it to the ground and reached out to touch him. His face contorted once again, and this time he appeared to be losing the fight. His skin faded to a sickly grey hue, his breathing slowed, and his legs gave way beneath him.

Finally, I saw the wall begin to give way, and Steranis barged through it to come to Tenebis’ aid. I wondered if it was already too late. Just as Tenebis hit the ground, he grabbed for his sword and plunged it once more into the necromancer. His blow hit in unison with Steranis’ and the necromancer was cleaved in twain between their blades.

I felt myself being shouldered aside as Asclepius, still invisible, pushed her way past me toward Tenebis. She showed herself again just as she knelt down beside him, laying her hands on either side of his face and fighting hard to keep the transformation at bay. Steranis stood by, his polearm ready to attack Tenebis should Asclepius fail to save him.

Slowly, painstaking, I watched as the colour returned to his cheeks and his breathing picked up again. Tenebis opened his eyes.

She let him get back to his feet before she began to yell.

“WHAT – WERE YOU – THINKING?” she cried.

I had seen Asclepius angry before, but not like this.

Tenebis shrugged.

“It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“When – have _any _of your good ideas – _ever_ turned out to be _good ideas?_” she continued, not lowering her voice.

Domoki took me by the arm.

“Come, my love. Let’s let them have their lovers’ quarrel in private.”

As we left to give them the room, I heard her continue.

“You realise that if you’re undead, _I cannot bring you back!_”

◊◊◊

We regrouped outside of the ravenous crypts. It was several minutes before Asclepius and Tenebis rejoined us, which made sense; it takes time to give someone a thorough dressing down the way I was sure Asclepius was doing to Tenebis. When they emerged, they were once again silent. Asclepius was carrying a book, which she handed to Edyan.

“Here’s his spellbook,” she said. “It’s mostly necromancy, but there’s some other stuff in there too.”

Edyan took the book and immediately began flipping through it. After a few minutes, he closed it again.

“It’ll do for now,” he said, simply. “Let’s get back to work.”


	23. Lust

The next hallway we ventured down was Sorshen’s. The full body statue of her guarding the hall was even more cringe-inducing than the stone bust outside. She was wearing armour, if it could be called that, for it was designed with a philosophy of _‘the less it covers, the more it protects’_. Still, Ulrick, Tenebis, and even Steranis eyed it appreciatively (Edyan had his nose buried in a spellbook and didn’t notice).

At the end of this hall were a pair of iron doors, above which were carved the words _‘The Iron Cages of Lust’_.

“Oh, bondage!” I said, “Delightful.”

I had high hopes for the _iron cages of lust_, provided they accommodated a range of interests.

Domoki caught my eye and grinned suggestively.

“Does anyone have a decanter of endless water…” asked Asclepius, “so we can hose down the boys before we head in?”

I laughed along. She probably was trying to deflect the group’s attention off of herself and Tenebis after their little spat, and her joke at our expense did so nicely.

When everyone had finished snickering, Tenebis pushed open the door. It swung freely on its hinges, and before us a saw a great hall. It was the largest room we’d seen down here in Runeforge. It’s edges were lined with iron cages, intricately wrought, and large enough for a man (or two, I supposed, if one squeezed). In toward the middle, a dozen or so stone pillars carved into the forms of nude women supported the ceiling. In the center of the room was a separate area curtained off in red velvet.

The creatures that greeted us here were unmistakeable: I had heard enough stories about succubae to know one when I saw one. Their bodies mimicked those of human women, save for the horns on their brows, their bat-like wings, and their taloned feet. Their armour was even more minimalistic that Sorshen’s own, as portrayed on the statue. There were seven of them, and they hovered in a row, slowly flapping their wings perhaps sixty feet away from us.

“Well, this is thoroughly disappointing,” I muttered to Domoki. “Between the pillars and the succubae, I do not yet see a single thing that I am inclined to lust after.”

“Well, _I’m_ here,” he muttered back. “Feel free to lust after _me_.”

“What, you don’t think I already do?” I answered.

One of the succubae began to speak.

“Welcome to the iron cages of lust,” she purred. “Please, take off your armour, that my sisters and I might better admire your perfect bodies.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Sorry, ladies,” I spoke up, hoping that if any of the others were entranced, my response would snap them out of it. “You got the wrong audience.”

I couldn’t think of any _real_ reason that they would be asking that of us if they didn’t plan on attacking. I decided a pre-emptive strike was in order. I threw a fireball.

◊◊◊

The succubae fell quickly, and the sounds of combat soon brought out a half dozen Ogres from the curtained area. Before the last Ogre had fallen, I felt the familiar pull at my mind as someone tried to cast a spell on me.

“Where’s the caster?” I yelled, to anyone who was listening, for I could not discern the location from whence the spell had come.

Tenebis pointed toward the curtains, and I threw a cloud of sparks in that general direction. When the sparks settled, they clung to the outline of a person, short in stature, and probably female. She did not burn when I threw fire at her, and she was too quick to be bound by chains of light. By the time I had discovered these things about her, she had cast a few more spells of her own, the effects of which were not immediately obvious. Considering the fact that she had tried to cast a spell on me, some sort of mind control, I suspected, though I had fought it off, I looked to my teammates to see if any of them had been affected.

Domoki had dropped his bow on the floor and was looking frantically to and fro. Similar looks of confusion and panic graced the faces of Ulrick and Edyan. Edyan was flipping back and forth through his spell book, too quickly to read anything. As I prepared a spell to help them shrug off the influence, I saw Ulrick raise his gun, having decided on a target. It was Asclepius.

“Ulrick!” I yelled, “Snap out of it! That’s Pigeon! She’s your friend!”

It was as if he didn’t hear me. He shot once, and missed.

Domoki turned tail and fled.

That wouldn’t do. I could fix all three of them at once, but only if they were close together.

“Domoki!” I called.

He stopped running and turned to look at me. He was looking for the source of the voice that called his name, but he was not seeing me. Whatever was happening in his head prevented it.

Ulrick shot again, and hit Asclepius.

“Domoki, come back to me,” I said, forcing my voice under control. I hoped that the familiar sound of my voice would break through the fog and get through to him that I was not a threat.

To my relief, he seemed to recognize my voice. He took a deep breath and walked back towards me.

I cast my spell, and watched as it wormed its way into the minds of my friends, pushing back against the enemy’s control and giving them a fighting chance to take back control of their own selves. One by one they won their battles. First Edyan, who looked up from his book and looked around as if seeing the room around him for the first time; then Ulrick, who dropped his gun on the floor in horror as he realized he had just shot Asclepius; then Domoki, whose face was suddenly swept over by a look of recognition that had been missing only moments before. He took a minute to register that I was ok, then rushed over to Asclepius, who was slumped against a wall, digging Ulrick’s bullet out of her leg with her own hands.

Looking back over to where our enemy had been, I saw that Tenebis and Steranis had succeeded in slaying her while I kept my allies from slaying each other.

Ulrick apologized about seventeen times to Asclepius for shooting her, and she shrugged it off every time.

◊◊◊

When Asclepius had taken care of her bullet wound, we had a chance to look around the room unhurriedly for the first time.

I followed Domoki’s eyes up to the ceiling, where an expansive mural stretched from wall to wall. It depicted dozens of attractive men and women engaged in all manner of sexual acts. There was a bit of everything: straight couples, gay couples, groups. The variety was refreshing.

“_That_ was what I was talking about when I mentioned illustrated books,” I whispered to Domoki.

Tenebis wandered into the curtained area as I continued to admire the ceiling. He was back in a few minutes.

“What’s back there?” I asked.

“Just a shitload of porn and some sex toys,” answered Tenebis.

“Want to go look at the porn?” I asked Domoki.

Our little art appreciation session was cut short by Ulrick’s voice as he stood over by one of the iron cages.

“Um… guys?” he called out. “There’s someone in this one.”

I approached the cage to see that he was right. A human man was curled up on the floor inside the cage, naked and trembling. He looked physically well, and hadn’t been starved, but it was clear from his demeanor that however long he’d been trapped here had taken quite the toll on him psychologically. I took off my cloak and reached through the bars to offer it to him. He started at me apprehensively at first, but soon reached out and snatched the cloak from me, wrapping it around himself and cowering back into the corner.

“Hello,” I said. “Can we get you out of here?”

The man stared at me some more, eyes wide. I wasn’t sure if he understood me or not. I tried greetings in a few other languages, starting with those I knew from this life, and soon resorting to the ones buried deep in my Draconic genetic memory. He did not seem to respond to any of them.

I turned to inspecting the cage for an exit. There was no door. The iron bars came out of the floor, bent twice, and returned to the floor on the opposite side. Either they’d used magic to get him in there in the first place, or the cage had been built with him already inside.

“I’m going to have to hack through the bars,” announced Tenebis.

“He’s not going to like that,” said Asclepius.

“No,” agreed Tenebis, “But we can’t leave him in there. I have to do it.”

Asclepius approached the man slowly, walking around to the side of the cage where he cowered. She spoke to him in a low, soothing voice, and though he did not understand her words, he softened a bit at her tone. When she got near enough to touch him, she got down on her knees to be at his level. She wrapped her hands arounds the bars between them and mimed pulling them apart. Then she pointed at Tenebis. He raised his sword. Asclepius placed her hands over her own ears, hoping the man would follow suit. He simply stared back at her blankly. Continuing to speak to him softly, she spoke the words of a healing spell and reached through the bars towards him. He shied away at first, but the cage was not large, and when she did touch him, he relaxed a little. She moved behind him and pressed her own hands over his ears. She nodded to Tenebis.

Tenebis hacked away at the bars for several minutes. With every swing of his sword, the iron rang out with a loud clang, and the man flinched, though his ears were partially protected by Asclepius’ hands. The man was crying by the time Tenebis had hacked through the third bar to create enough space for the man to escape. Tenebis stepped aside leaving the opening free, and Asclepius pulled back her hands, but did not stop the constant reassuring murmur of her voice. The man looked around. He looked at each of us for a few seconds in turn, then he looked at the hole in the bars, seemingly still deciding whether to make a break for it.

“Let’s give him some more space,” I suggested.

The rest of us retreated to the hallway while Asclepius stayed by his side. Finally he made up his mind. He took hold of my cloak around his shoulders, sprung for the hole, leapt through, and ran. He took cover behind the velvet curtains.

Asclepius came back to join the rest of us in the hallway.

“He’s clearly not ready to trust anyone yet,” she said, rather unnecessarily.

“Well we can’t just leave him here,” I argued. “Let’s wait a bit and see if he comes out.”

And so we settled down in the corridor for a while, talking amongst ourselves, trading jokes, and hoping to lure our man out of hiding with the sound of our laughter. It did not matter what language he spoke; laughter is universal.

It took some time, but sure enough, about half an hour later, the curtain parted just a bit and his face poked out. I did not make eye contact right away to avoid spooking him but looked in his general direction and smiled.

“He probably speaks Thassilonian,” suggested Asclepius. “I know he didn’t respond to it in the cage, but he was processing a lot back then. It’s worth another try.”

The man emerged from the curtains and crawled towards us slowly on all fours, like an animal. I didn’t know what he’d done with my cloak, but he wasn’t wearing it anymore.

“We’re not going to hurt you,” I said, in Thassilonian.

The man narrowed his eyes and squinted at me. I was not certain, but I thought it was scepticism which I saw in his eyes, which was encouraging, because it meant he likely understood me.

“Are you hungry?” I asked, pulling out my sack of trail mix.

“I told you, nobody gets hungry in here,” said Edyan. “There’s a sustenance field.”

“Yes, well, offering food is a pretty universal sign of friendship, and I thought I’d give it a shot. Sue me,” I responded.

I tossed the bag of food toward the man. I landed a few feet short of him. He looked at it quizzically but did not reach for it.

Then, to my surprise, he spoke.

“Why should I trust you?” he asked, in Thassilonian.

“Because if we wanted to hurt you, we could have done it while you were still in the cage,” I offered. “Why would we set you free only to hurt you afterward?”

“Freedom is relative,” he said. “My cage is bigger now, but there is still no escape.”

I took a moment to reflect on what he had said. We had entered this place through a magic portal, which had closed behind us once we were through. We had not actually found a way out yet, nor did we really know where we were. In fact, I doubted very much that we were even on the material plane, which meant the only ways back home were magical, and we had not tried them yet to see if they worked.

“Do you know where we are?” I asked the man.

“No,” he said, and with that, he turned tail and scampered back behind the curtain.

I collected my bag of trail mix and returned to the group. I translated what he had said to me and waited for suggestions. None came.

“So?” I asked. “What do we do?”

“He’s not going anywhere,” suggested Domoki. “I say we give him some time. Come back tomorrow, see if he’s willing to talk some more.”

◊◊◊

It was still morning, but my spells were mostly spent, as were Asclepius’, so we decided to take the rest of the day off and move on the next wing tomorrow. We returned to Edyan’s magic cottage, which was still set up in the middle of the central room.

“Asclepius,” I said, as I sat down next to her outside the cabin, “how did you know he would speak Thassilonian?”

“Just a hunch,” she answered. “This place was clearly constructed during the height of the Thassilonian Empire; Edyan has been very eager to point out the architectural features to me. Given the depth of our mystery man’s madness, I thought it possible he’d been here since the beginning.”

“But the Thassilonian empire fell ten thousand years ago,” I pointed out. “If he’s from Ancient Thassilon, he’s over ten thousand years old. Does this place grant immortality?”

“Perhaps,” she answered. “It is ironic, the lengths to which men will go to try to achieve immortality – it is rarely a blessing, more often a curse. The mortal mind is not equipped to deal with eternity.”

At that, Asclepius stood up and left. I sat alone for a bit, pondering what she had told me.

Soon Domoki interrupted my solitude with his comforting presence.

“Domoki,” I asked, “do you think tomorrow we could have a day where you don’t nearly die? You’re making me worry.”

“I’ll do my best,” he promised, “but as I recall, you were not so far from death yourself. You’ll have to return the favour.”

“Nonsense,” I said. “I was perfectly fine. There was no cause for concern.”

“You were bleeding from your face,” he pointed out. “Rather profusely, as I recall. You were just as badly off as I was in that fight.”

“No, I wasn’t. Pigeon treated you first. Because you were about to die, Domoki. And I was not.”

“Pigeon treated you first because she doesn’t want to have to deal with the way you get when I’m injured or dead,” he said.

“What do you mean ‘the way I get?’” I asked.

“Pigeon told me what happened while I was dead,” he explained. “Apparently you were… not calm.”

“Well, that’s rather embarrassing,” I admitted.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” he said. “It’s cute. I thought it was cute.”

“So when exactly did she tell you this?” I asked.

“Not long after it happened,” he said. “While we were still at the dam.”

“So… you must have known I cared for you then.”

“I did. It just took me a while to decide what to do about it.”

“Well,” I said, taking his hand in mine and raising it to my lips, “I’m glad you decided what you did.”

“So am I,” he said, as he pulled me in for a kiss.


	24. Pride

The next morning, nobody bothered with breakfast. The man we’d found in the iron cages of lust had not seemed to think that food was necessary, and judging from him mental state, he’d been here for years. He would know better than we would whether the sustenance field really worked or not.

As I reflected on what he had said about being trapped in here, I decided it might be best to know a little bit more about where we really were. I took a moment to clear my mind and focused on home, speaking the words of the teleport spell under my breath. The picture of the Rusty Dragon was clear in my mind, but as I’d feared, my real surroundings did not drop away. I was stuck.

I opened my eyes to see Domoki looking at me, confused and a little concerned. Without waiting for his question, I answered.

“It is as I feared. I can’t teleport out of here.”

“I have come to suspect that Runeforge is its own demi-plane,” said Edyan, from where he was sitting a few yards away.

“If that is the case, I can still get us home,” said Asclepius.

“Care to share some details on how?” I asked.

“Dalenydra will provide,” she evaded.

This was just great. I was trapped on a foreign demi-plane with no certain way out, and only the assurances of a religious nutcase that we’d be able to get home again. Granted, she’d come through for us before, in very powerful ways, so I wanted to believe her, but there was something about the lack of details in her response that got to me. Still there wasn’t much to be done about it at the moment.

I decided to head back into the iron cages of lust to have another go at talking to our liberated man. I called out to him as I approached, hoping not to startle him with my sudden arrival. I could not see him from the doorway, and I expected he was behind the curtain again. I sat down outside of them and waited to see if he would come out to talk.

It was not long before the curtains parted and the man peeked out. He was wearing my cloak that I’d given him the day before, and nothing else.

I slid the clothes I’d brought with me across to him. He took them and disappeared behind the curtain again. Minutes later, he peeked out once more.

“Hello again,” I said, in Thassilonian.

“Why should I trust you?” he asked again, as he had the day before.

“Because you want to,” I answered this time. “It’s been too long since you’ve had anyone you can trust, and your soul longs for a friend.”

The man nodded, but did not emerge any further from his curtained fortress.

“You need me,” he said.

“What makes you think that?” I asked.

“Yesterday, you asked me why you would have set me free if you wanted to hurt me. There’s an answer. You need me for something.”

Instead of immediately denying it, I went with honesty.

“I don’t know,” I admitted.

“What?” he asked, puzzled now.

“I don’t know if I need you or not. Certainly you know things about this place that I don’t. And those things may be helpful to us. But I did not set you free because I need you.”

“Why did you take me out of my cage?”

“Because you are a man, and men should not be in cages,” I answered simply.

“I… I don’t think so,” he said.

“What part of that are you disagreeing with?” I asked.

“I… I don’t think I’m a man anymore,” he admitted. “Not after all this time.”

“You still seem like a man to me,” I said. “How long have you been down here?”

“I stopped counting the years after one hundred and three.”

“You don’t age down here then?” I asked.

“No,” he said. “Don’t age, don’t have to eat or drink… you stop pissin’ and shittin’ after the first few days too. Don’t have to sleep either, technically, but I got nothing better to do. Just me and my own mind down here, driving each crazy between visits from that Delvahine bitch. I had gone stark raving mad, and then that cleric of yours put her hands on me, and some of my wits came back. Don’t ask me how, but she fixed me up at least half way. That’s a damned impressive woman you’ve got travelling with you.”

“She’s quite something, isn’t she?” I admitted. “Brought my lover back from the dead once.”

“Not bad.”

“I never got your name,” I realized, out loud. “I suppose I never gave you mine, either. I am Urhador.”

I extended my hand, but he did not take it.

“I am…” he began, then stopped himself. His eyes darted back and forth, and he took up a defensive posture. “No. I can’t tell you my name. Don’t trust you. No.”

I wondered if that was true, or if he had forgotten his own name after all these years, and was trying to cover up that fact. Still, I did not press any further for his name. He would tell it to me in time, when he felt comfortable.

I tried to move on to less personal things.

“So do you know anything about what else is down here?”

This turned out to be the wrong question to ask. At that, he sprung up from his crouch and darted behind the curtain again, withdrawing from view.

“Take your time,” I called out after him. “I’ll come back tomorrow, if that’s alright with you.”

There was no response, so I turned and left.

◊◊◊

This morning’s Runelord of choice was Xanderghul, the Runelord of pride and illusion magic. As we filed past the statue of the peacock collared man and down the hallway, our reflections stared back at us from both directions; the hallway was lined on both sides with mirrors. The words _The Shimmering Veils of Pride_ were carved into the floor and inlaid in silver.

The hallway forked up ahead, one branch leading off to the left, the other to the right at sharp angles. As Tenebis stepped across into the open space between them, he looked both ways and froze. Then he stepped to the left and swung his sword at something I could not see around the corner. From the right, a second foe appeared behind him: an identical copy of Tenebis himself. The mirrors had somehow multiplied Tenebis, his reflections on both sides made flesh and turned against him. Immediately, I began firing magic missiles at the mirrors, shattering them one by one in the hopes that their destruction would end Tenebis’ clones. Domoki followed suit, loosing arrow after arrow at the walls. Steranis attacked the clones around the corner with his polearm, holding off one while Tenebis (or at least, the one I thought was our Tenebis; I had lost track of which was which) faced off against his double. Ulrick tried to move forward to get a shot in at the shadow Tenebis’, but in the process, created two clones of his own.

Domoki and I smashed every mirror the whole length of the hallway, and the clones persisted.

“There’s more mirrors around the corner!” yelled Ulrick, “but if you stand where you can see them, you’ll get cloned!”

“Domoki,” I said, casting haste, “time for that ‘bouncing arrows off of walls’ shit.”

◊◊◊

In time, the shadows of Tenebis and Ulrick were killed, the magic mirrors were smashed, and we eventually had a chance to catch our breath. Domoki instead took the opportunity to march up to Ulrick, pick him up by his collar, and ask, in a barely controlled voice:

“What did I tell you about running ahead, gunman?”

“Ummm…. Uhhh…” stammered Ulrick, “that if I didn’t stop doing it, you would chain me to you so I couldn’t run off?”

“Domoki,” I said, coming up behind him and placing a hand on his shoulder. “Put him down.”

I leaned in a little closer, and continued in a whisper:

“If you want to try bondage, there is a time and a place for that. ‘Right here’ and ‘with Ulrick’ are not it.”

This confused him enough that he let go of Ulrick, who slumped to the floor.

“What is ‘bondage?’ ” he asked.

Ulrick tried desperately not to laugh.

“I’ll explain later,” I replied, taking his hand and leading him away.

“Thank you,” whispered Ulrick at me, as I left.

“Thank _you,_ Ulrick,” muttered Tenebis from his spot on the floor across the hall, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’ve been shot nine times.”

◊◊◊

After Asclepius had taken care of Ulrick and Tenebis’ wounds, we continued on. Both hallways proceeded forward again past the mirrors, emptying out into one enormous hall. In the center of this hall stood an enormous colourful statue of a peacock atop a dais. The walls of the hall were floor-to-ceiling mirrors.

As we began to move into the hall I felt the familiar tug on my mind as I resisted the effect of a spell. There was an invisible caster in here as well. Tenebis charged and attacked someone that I could not see. Apparently _he_ could see them, which was good enough for me.

Fireballs exploded left and right, and they were not mine. In fact, there were too many of them to have come from a single caster. There were many of these invisible things about, and if I concentrated closely, I could make out the little orange bead that preceded a fireball and trace its trajectory back to the thing that cast it.

Someone came up behind me, and I turned to see that it was Ulrick. His gun was raised, and pointed at me. Our invisible foes must have caught him in a confusion spell, which I had resisted, and he once again could not tell friend from foe.

The telltale orange bead of another fireball zoomed between us and exploded. The fire did not burn me, for I had built up enough resistance to fire, but Ulrick came out looking rather singed. Quickly performing the mental calculation to pinpoint the origin of the fireball, I showered sparks on our enemy. The glistening particles clung to him, outlining his figure twenty feet above the ground. It was a target, and that was all I needed.

“Ulrick!” I yelled, as I pointed at the now clearly outlined mage. “It was _him!_”

Ulrick stood for a moment, struggling with himself, the wrenched his gun away from me and aimed at our foe. I breathed out a sigh of relief and began to prepare the spell that would aid him in regaining control of his own mind.

The invisible casters fell, one by one, a dozen of them in all, as each gave away their position and I lit them up like beacons. Tenebis could see them somehow, and dealt with the ones that escaped my notice.

◊◊◊

When the room was once again silent, and I looked around a took my bearings, I saw that Domoki had not yet lowered his bow. He loosed an arrow into the wall, smashing a spider-web pattern in the mirror there. He drew another arrow and aimed again.

“Domoki,” I said. “These mirrors aren’t magical. They’re not going to clone us like the ones in the hallway.”

Domoki ignored me and kept shooting, slowly now, methodically, as he moved down the length of the wall, embedding an arrow into it every five feet.

“Domoki?”

He did not respond.

“Domoki, you’re not helping.”

Domoki did not speak again until fragments of shattered glass lay on the floor around the entire perimeter of the room.

“I’m not taking any chances,” he said.

“Over here!” called Steranis, from the far end of the room.

As we drew nearer, he called our attention to a secret door in the wall behind the recently smashed mirrors. Pushing it open, a small library was revealed, which lit up Edyan’s face for the first time since his spellbook was destroyed two days before. We pushed through, promising to return Edyan to the library as soon as the area was cleared of threats. We needn’t have bothered. There were three rooms beyond the library: the first two were piled high with fresh corpses; the third contained more of the invisible casters, packed together in a room small enough that a few fireballs were enough to end them.

As I took on the unpleasant job of cremating the bodies, the others searched for valuables. They found them, though the knowledge here was far more valuable than currency. There were spellbooks aplenty, most of which Edyan kept, but he threw me one for my “edification”. I took a cursory flip through it, then slipped it into the top of my pack for later study. Of considerably more interest to me was the journal that Edyan himself was paging through. Large sections of it were unreadable or torn out, but towards the end there remained a few legible pages.

_The runeforge pool awoke! I first took this as a sign that Runelord Xanderghul had risen. When I arrived at the pool to investigate, it seemed that the others had come to the same conclusion. The foolish Wardens of Envy thought to disrupt the recrudescence, and with the aid of Kazaven, Ordikan, Athroxis, and that lovely creature Delvahine, we were able to defeat them utterly. Their Abjurant Halls lie in ruins. Our treaty was short-lived, though. Kazaven absconded with the bodies and that treacherous wench Athroxis nearly burned me to death before I made it back here._

_I was mistaken. Runelord Xanderghul still slumbers. It is that monster Karzoug who quickens and nears rebirth. Damnation! He must not be allowed to precede Xanderghul into the world, for he would rebuild Thassilon in his own inferior image, a testament to his own greed rather than one of pride in the work. He must be delayed or defeated!_

…After reading this far I found that at least on this particular point I could agree with the author of the journal. Karzoug could not be allowed to return to the world. It would be disastrous. I was confident at this point that preventing Karzoug’s awakening was the mission the gods had called us to when they tasked Asclepius with assembling the Seven. I read on eagerly to see what there was in here to help us with this task…

_I have managed to escape this place, to a certain extent. By astral projection I can explore what the world outside has become. It is a brutish place, yet it pleases me to see Thassilon’s mark endures in the shape of our monuments. Still, the wilderness of the world vexes me. Gone is the empire I knew. Karzoug’s city of Xin-Shalast is now hidden high in the mountains, and when I finally discovered it, I found the spires where his body is hidden to be inaccessible, warded against astral travelers by the occlusion field around the peak of Mhar-Massif. As long as his runewell is active, I fear even a physical approach would be impossibly deadly. I must determine a way to pierce these wardings, and to send an agent in my place._

_No need to risk my own life before my clone is ready._

…So whoever had written this was a citizen of ancient Thassilon, and had survived all these ten thousand years in this place. Perhaps Asclepius was right and the man we’d freed from the cages of lust was that old as well…

_I have taken steps toward an alliance with Delvahine. She may be able to escape this place, for she was not of the original blood. At the least, she can call upon agents from outside, and perhaps through them we can secure servants in the outer world. She seems uninterested in Sorshen’s return; all the better for Xanderghul, that._

…From this I presumed Delvahine to be the caster we’d killed in the Iron Cages of Lust (the prisoner there had mentioned her as well)…

_The runeforge pool is the key. As I suspected, the occlusion field around Karzoug’s fortress in Xin-Shalast has a flaw. His lack of knowledge of the intricacies of Sorshen’s and my own lord Xanderghul’s powers have left an opening. My agents must use components infused with our lords’ virtues, extract the latent magic within these components, and then anoint their chosen weapons with this raw power. The runeforged pool seems to have enough reserves to enhance no more than half a dozen or so runeforged weapons, but those enhanced with enchantment and illusion magic will be most potent against Karzoug’s defenses. They may even be pivotal in his defeat. For my own part, fragments of any of the mirrors in the Peacock’s Hall should suffice for a component. Delvahine’s... equipment... should suffice for enchantment, although one might be wise to cleanse them before they are handled._

…If we needed to perform this ritual in order to defeat Karzoug, so be it, but I did _not_ want to be the one tasked with retrieving Delvahine’s “equipment”…

_The search for an agent goes poorly. Delvahine seems more interested in her own lusts than aiding me. Worse, the lapses and fevers are increasing. I fear that I will be forced to see to Karzoug myself, in which event I will need to use the master circle I built into the Halls of Wrath to escape this place. Yet first, I must set aside my work on delaying Karzoug’s return and turn back to the final development of my 205th clone. I only hope I have time to finish before the dementia takes hold..._

This was where the journal ended. I had to assume that the dementia had taken hold, or there would have been more entries. I looked up.

“Not it,” I called.

“What?” asked Edyan.

“I’m calling ‘not it’ on collecting Delvahine’s ‘equipment’,” I clarified.

“Sorry, Urhador,” answered Edyan. “You’re the one that’s got that cleaning spell. It makes sense for it to be you.”

“What, are you telling me that you don’t know that one as well?” I asked, incredulous.

“Nope,” he said.

“Well _that’s_ a bloody lie,” muttered Domoki.


	25. Sloth

We still had plenty of time left in the day, and we decided to go on into the Krune’s hall before we rested. It seemed wise to tackle the hall of Sloth after we’d already done some work that day, to avoid any accusations of sloth on our part. As we passed by the statue of the bald, tattooed man, and advanced down the hallway behind him, the sickly stench of rotting and decay grew stronger and stronger.

“Something tells me my cleaning spell is not going to be powerful enough,” I remarked, dryly.

Edyan cast a spell, and a thin, shimmering layer of – something – appeared around each of us, about an inch off the skin. I inhaled and found that I could smell nothing.

“Well, that works,” I said. “Thank you.”

When we came to the end of the hallway and rounded the corner, we found ourselves in what could only be described as a sewer. _The Festering Maze of Sloth_ read an inscription on the wall, carved into the stone and filled with a yellowish mold. A thick sludge of greenish-brown stagnated in serpentine channels cut into the stone. It was fortunate, I found myself thinking, that every one of us had some means of flight by now, for wading through the sewage was not a thought I would have entertained, with or without the protective layer of magic Edyan had imbued us with.

As we flew on through the snaking tunnels, we came to an iron grate blocking our way. Tenebis and Steranis, working together, could not lift it, so we doubled back and took another branch. This time our progress was halted not by iron, but by the sewer rot itself. As if on cue, the murky sludge rose up in front of us and behind us, forming the outlines of limbless creatures with wide open mouths as the only recognizable features.

The gruesome vermin lunged forwards. I tried to fight them off with fire, but it was not long before my face was engulfed in the slime and I found myself unable to breathe. My casting arm was, for the moment, still outside of the ooze, so I turned my fire towards me in the hopes of scorching it and convincing it that I was not worth the trouble. It was not easily convinced.

The time I spent inside that disgusting slime creature seemed an eternity, though in hindsight it couldn’t have been more than a minute or two, or I would have passed out from lack of oxygen. When I finally struggled free and cleared my mouth and nose enough to gasp for air I saw that the creature that had been smothering me had been reduced to a pin cushion. At least two dozen arrows protruded from its side.

“So they _are_ capable of dying,” remarked Ulrick, as he backed away from another of the creatures, unloading his revolver into its gaping maw.

“Nobody fucks with my boyfriend,” said Domoki, as the slime that had been suffocating me slumped back into the sewer muck.

There were still five more of the things, but with my head and arms free again, I was able to be of some use in dispatching the rest. They were resistant to fire, so I channeled my magic instead into my allies, giving them an extra edge on speed. Killing them all was a slog, but eventually we managed to return them all to the muck from whence they’d come and I had a moment to catch my breath and clean the slime out of my orifices. After popping off a few cleaning spells, we went on with our exploration of the tunnels.

Soon we found ourselves in a large chamber with something almost resembling a floor. The floor was still covered with a few inches of sewer muck, but it was conceivable that at one point, had the sewer level been better regulated, it might have been clear. The far wall of this chamber was dominated by three immense levers. The levers were labelled in Thassilonian: “open,” “close,” and “cleaning cycle.” Tenebis flew over and tried the “open” lever. With a squeal and a groan, the lever gave way, and the iron grates that barred our way creaked open. Tenebis released the lever and slowly moved back to its original position.

“So we know what ‘open’ does – it’s pretty obvious what ‘close’ would do – do I want to know what ‘cleaning cycle’ is?” I asked, to no one in particular.

“Opening the grates has given us more tunnels to explore,” pointed out Edyan. “We should see what’s down them before we go messing with any more levers.”

With the grates up, there were indeed three more tunnels open to us, and I thought it might be best to see what was down each one before choosing one to enter. Hovering in the middle of the room, I cast a spell and placed a magical eye floating in the air in front of me. I waited while my field of vision darkened and then returned, having jumped forward a few feet: I was now seeing what the floating eye saw. I urged the eye forward down the first tunnel and around the corner.

The tunnel opened up into another room about 30 feet down. On the plus side, this room had a floor that was actually mostly dry; here the sewage was contained to relatively narrow, deep channels cut into the floor. On the minus side, I was not alone in this room (technically, I wasn’t in this room at all, merely observing it through a remote sensor, but that distinction was difficult for my brain to acknowledge).

The creatures here, unlike the last ones we’d fought, had all too many limbs and eyes: seven tentacle-like appendages and countless eyes and one great mouth on their underbellies. No sooner had I absorbed the sight of these monsters than I felt my wings freeze up and my stomach jump into my throat as I began to fall. I expected to splash down into the sewage but instead a pair of strong arms caught me, halting my fall. My vision was still that of the floating eye, while my body remained in the room with my allies, so I could not see who it was that caught me. But as he pulled me close and cradled my head in his arms, his strength wrapped in tenderness, I did not need to see him to know who it was. Secure in the knowledge that my body was safe in my lover’s arms, I kept the arcane eye active. I might as well keep watching and learn as much as I could about these creatures before we confronted them in person: how long did the paralysis last? Once it wore off, could it affect me again? Was it possible to resist it?

I observed the monsters for another minute or so, committing them to memory so I could describe them properly when I returned fully to my own body. With an adequate description, somebody might know what they are.

“Urhador?” I heard Domoki’s voice ask, not far from my ear. “Are you ok?”

I tried to answer, but the paralysis was complete and I could not so much as open my mouth.

“Pigeon, he’s not moving,” said Domoki, unable to hide the concern in his voice.

I felt a hand on my forehead.

“He’s paralyzed, but he’s not otherwise injured,” said Asclepius.

“The paralysis should not prevent him from dismissing the optical sensor if he needs to get out,” added Edyan’s voice, “Control of the sensor is a purely mental action.”

“What?” asked Domoki.

“He’ll come out when he’s ready,” translated Asclepius.

The double-entendre was amusing, and it was at this point that I discovered what happens when one tries to laugh while one is paralyzed. The sensation of the laugh catching in my throat was jarring, but I pushed past it and returned my attention to the creatures I was observing.

After a few minutes of staring at the strange beasts with the paralyzing gaze, I still could not move, so I dismissed the eye and returned to my own body. My own eyes had been open when the paralysis hit, thankfully, so I could see my surroundings as soon as my vision returned to my own body. I was disappointed to note, however, that I was still paralyzed. Domoki was looking down at me, his concern for my wellbeing evident upon his face. The others hung about the periphery of my vision, remaining out of focus as I could not move even my eyes.

“Can’t you do anything, Pigeon?” pleaded Domoki.

“I could,” explained Asclepius, “but until I know that he’s done looking at whatever caused the paralysis, there wouldn’t be much point. He would get re-paralyzed immediately.”

“So how long do we wait before we do something?” he asked.

“Thirteen minutes,” answered Edyan.

“That’s awfully specific,” pointed out Domoki.

“The spell he cast will last thirteen minutes if he does not dismiss it before its completion. After that it will be safe to say that he is no longer looking at the source of the paralysis.”

Domoki accepted this reluctantly and began to stroke my hair as he waited for the time to pass. It was only another minute before I found that I could move my fingers again, and when I did I felt Domoki breathe out a sigh of relief. Soon I had regained mobility in the rest of my body and I crawled out of Domoki’s arms and took to my own wings once again.

I described the creatures to my allies, hopeful that someone would know something about them. No one did. For the next few minutes we discussed our strategy, if it could be called that, and I did not like the way it sounded. Tenebis believed that his Eidolon would protect him from the paralysis, so he would go in ahead as usual. The rest of us were to stay around the corner, chucking fireballs, arrows, and bullets blindly past Tenebis and into the back of the room. Asclepius would keep her eyes closed and stand by to unfreeze anyone who got paralyzed.

The plan did not go as desired.

At first things seemed like they were going well. Tenebis stood in the doorway, blocking it off, and was not immediately paralyzed. The creatures came up and attacked him, but he seemed to be holding them off, and they could not get past him. Edyan and I chucked fireballs into the back of the room, and Tenebis reported that they seemed to be doing some good. Domoki bounced arrows off the wall and into the room and occasionally hit something.

But our good fortune did not last long. First, we learned that the creatures were venomous, and each time one of their long tentacles managed to score a hit on Tenebis before he hacked it away, he looked sicker and greener. Secondly, the creatures found another way to get to us. I kicked myself for not further exploring the passages beyond the creatures. I had been paralyzed, but that didn’t stop me from moving the eye, and I should have mapped out the whole area before I dismissed it. Steranis rushed to fend off two of the creatures that emerged from another opening further down the hallway. He averted his eyes and stood in their way, hacking and slashing blindly in their direction, hoping to drive them back. Tenebis fell to the ground, motionless, his whole body a sickly green colour. He had stopped glowing, and as he fell his wings disappeared and he shrunk back down to the size of a regular man.

We needed to fall back. Reaching into the top of my bag and pulling out my new spellbook, I flipped it open to the spell I desperately hoped would buy us the time we needed. I had only seen it briefly in passing as I flipped through this spellbook in the veils of pride, but I found it back quickly and read it aloud. A wall of stone appeared out of thin air, covering both doorways through which the creatures were attacking us and separating us from the monsters.

Asclepius rushed to Tenebis’ side and began to channel healing into him. Ulrick leaned down and grabbed Tenebis by the arm, and as I watched, the sickly green colour drained out of Tenebis and into Ulrick.

“What are you doing?” I asked Ulrick.

“Taking the poison from him. Buying time for Pigeon,” answered Ulrick.

“How?” asked Domoki.

“It’s just a thing I can do. I’m a Paladin of Desna,” said Ulrick.

“You’re not a Paladin, you’re a gunslinger,” I pointed out.

“The two are not mutually exclusive,” argued Ulrick.

This news shocked me and went against pretty much everything I knew about Ulrick, but I didn’t have time to think about that now. On the other side of the hastily conjured stone wall, I could hear our enemies pounding away, trying to break through it. I had had to stretch the wall thin to make it big enough to cover both fronts that we’d been attacked on. I knew it wouldn’t last long if the creatures on the other side were determined to break it down.

Asclepius looked up from her work on Tenebis.

“He’s stable; he can be moved,” she said.

I picked him up and we retreated back to the room with the levers. Steranis pulled on the “close” lever and the iron grates creaked back into place.

Asclepius finished healing Tenebis and treated Ulrick for his poison. Tenebis summoned his Eidolon back and resumed glowing. Steranis filled the whole hallway down which we had retreated with thorny briars. Our tentacled friends would have to force their way through the thorns before they could fight us again.

I heard my wall of stone crumble and I knew they were on their way. By the time they pushed through the thorns and made it to the iron grate, they were half dead. By the time they hacked through the bars of the iron grate and advanced upon Tenebis and Steranis once again, they were on fire. Not long after that, they were completely dead.

◊◊◊

Down the next hallway we found a heavy set of double doors, and behind that, a mage sitting on a heavy obsidian throne. Too slothful to fight us himself, but still wanting us dead, he summoned creatures from other planes to do it for him, but he was not nearly fast enough, and both him and his first wave of monsters were soon dead. We took all his stuff and moved on.

Down the third hallway we found nothing but winding tunnels of sludge that doubled back on themselves, leading nowhere in particular.

In time, we found ourselves back in the room with the levers.

“Ready to find out what ‘cleaning cycle’ does?” asked Steranis.

“You know, we could just leave it,” I pointed out. “Not ever lever has to be pulled.”

“You’re no fun,” said Steranis. “I’m going to pull it.”

“Fine,” I said. “I’m going to leave. I’ve fought enough monsters for today, and I don’t need to be drowned on top of it all.”

“That’s fine,” said Steranis. “You can go. If it’s water, I’ll turn myself into a fish or something.”

“What if it’s not water?” I asked. “What if it’s some awful corrosive chemical, or it’s fire, or something? Fire can be considered cleansing.”

“Well I guess I will find out,” he said.

I turned and flew out, and to my surprise, everyone except for Steranis followed me.

When we got out of the sewer, we sat down and waited for Steranis. Soon we heard the rushing of a large quantity of water, and nothing else for quite some time.

About five minutes later, a giant crab crawled out, and just as Tenebis was drawing his sword, the crab transformed in Steranis. He looked a bit worse for wear, but he was alive and not drowning.

“It was water,” he reported. “And there was an angry water elemental inside that wanted a fight.”

“I take it from the fact that you are here talking to us, that you either defeated it or ran away,” I said.

“Oh, I killed it,” Steranis assured me.

◊◊◊

Now that all of us, including Steranis, had had our fill of excitement for the day, we whiled away the rest of the afternoon in relative silence. Domoki and Steranis meditated; Tenebis sharpened his sword; Ulrick disassembled, cleaned, and reassembled his gun; Asclepius prayed; Edyan and I studied our new spell books. In the evening I found myself playing with fire again and Domoki wandered over to be near me. He sat down quietly by my side and his hand landed gently on my thigh. He watched, transfixed, as I sculpted tiny Dragons in the air out of a handful of sparks.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it,” he said, sorrowfully, breaking the silence.

“Used to what?” I asked.

“Watching you fly into danger and knowing there’s only so much I can do to protect you.”

“Hmm. I know exactly how feel,” I said, scattering my sparks off to the side and wrapping my arms around him.

“Urhador?” he whispered, quietly under his breath.

“Yes?”

“What is ‘bondage’?”


	26. Greed

The next morning, after prying myself out of Domoki’s arms, I headed back to the iron cages of lust once more to talk with my deranged friend. I was making some progress with him, I thought, and it would be a shame to give up now and let it go to waste.

This time he was waiting for me outside the curtain, which I took as a positive sign. He was wearing the clothes I’d given him, and while he still crouched with the posture of an animal, the clothing lent him back some dignity.

I walked towards him until he tensed up, ready to spring away. Then I took a step back and sat down on the floor across from him. This time, he started the conversation.

“Why should I trust you?” he asked, just as he had the last two days.

The fact that he opened with that, his only persistent question since I’d met him, spoke volumes. He so badly needed someone to trust. I doubted I was the best candidate – I was a stone cold murderer by now, and I knew it – but I was the one that was here, so I would have to do.

“I don’t need you,” I said. “We figured out how to get out of here. Found that Peacock Lord’s notes in the Shimmering Veils of Pride. We know everything we need to know now, and I’m still talking to you.”

“Why?”

“Because you deserve better than a cage and an eternity of solitude to drive you mad.”

“No,” he muttered, “No, no, no. Nobody gets what they deserve.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” I commiserated.

He looked up at me now, searching my eyes for something – deceit, probably.

“How do we get out?” he asked.

“There’s a magic circle in the Halls of Wrath. And I think our cleric knows another way out as well, though she hasn’t properly explained it yet.”

“Have you tried to get out yet?”

“No,” I admitted. “But you’re welcome to join us when we do.”

He rose on his haunches, as if preparing to spring away. I supposed he was done talking for the day. A rose to leave. To my surprise, he spoke once more before disappearing behind the curtain.

“You may call me Mister Mutt.”

◊◊◊

Since the Halls of Wrath contained the way out, and we were saving them for last, the only remaining hall to explore was Greed- Karzoug’s domain. With baited breath, we passed by the statue of our least favourite Runelord. We filed down the hallway behind him to find – nothing. The hallway ended abruptly, a stone wall with no doors. At first we suspected an illusion, and Tenebis attempted to walk right through it, but he was stopped abruptly and somewhat painfully by what really did seem to be a real stone wall. Steranis busied himself with checking the sides, wisely reasoning that a secret door would most likely be located in someplace other than the obvious end of the hallway location. He too, found nothing.

I decided to try my lock-picking charm. I didn’t know where the door was, but if I could cast blindly and unlock it, it might make a sound. Standing halfway down the hallway, I placed a hand on each wall and murmured the words.

There was a sound. It was not the one I was expecting. With a low clattering that rose to a dull roar, the entire front half of the right wall crumbled to dust, pelting Tenebis and Steranis with rubble and partially burying both of them in the debris.

“Thanks a lot, Urhador,” said Tenebis, sarcastically, as he picked himself up out of the pile of rocks and dusted himself off.

“Hey,” I protested, “I found the door. That’s more than you could do.”

Tenebis took wing once again and flew on into the next corridor that the crumbling wall had revealed. This hallway was panelled with polished darkwood inlaid with silver and gold runes. _The Vaults of Greed_, it read, and it went on, but the text was in riddles and we decided to clear the place of danger before we tried to decipher the walls.

Up ahead floated a strange green mist, opaque and nearly solid looking. Tenebis approached cautiously, Steranis directly behind him.

“Stop,” ordered Steranis, when they got near, “Don’t go in. It’s polymorph gas.”

Edyan cast a spell to suppress the gas, and as it cleared, a stone fountain came into view in the centre of the room. The statue in the centre of the fountain took the form of a human wizard clasping an ornately carved staff in one hand, his other hand raised high in the air, releasing the fountain’s water in a fine spray into the basin below. We approached the fountain cautiously, and when we got near we made out a school of goldfish swimming in circles within the basin. Asclepius was gazing into the water, her face filled with anger and sorrow mixed in equal parts.

“What is it, Pigeon?” asked Domoki.

“Those are people,” she said.

“Well, now we know what the polymorph gas does,” pointed out Ulrick.

“Do they know that they’re people?” asked Tenebis.

“Some of them do,” she said. “I can feel their distress, their fear, their desperation… their madness.”

“Can they be changed back?” I asked.

“One at a time. We could change them back, cure their madness, get them out of here. But there are dozens of them, and I can’t fix more than one or two of them per day.”

“We’ll come back then,” I said, “once Karzoug is dead, and we have time, we’ll come back and save these people. Right now we must move on.”

The green mist was starting to creep back around the edges of the room, and Tenebis joined Edyan in the effort to suppress it. The room stayed mostly clear, but the two hallways up ahead leading out of the room were still choked with the stuff.

“How far do you think this mist goes on?” I asked Edyan.

“Who knows,” he admitted. “The whole place could be filled with it, for all I know!”

I added my own magic to the collective effort of suppressing the gas, and slowly the gas began receding down the hallway in front of us. We moved forward, and allowed the mist to close in behind us. Proceeding in this manner we found not too much later than there _was_ an end to the mist. By the time we reached the next room, it had cleared entirely.

In the Vaults of Greed, we found half a dozen rooms in total – each contained a fountain with dozens of men-turned-goldfish trapped inside. We also found treasure – _lots _of treasure – and while it was guarded by iron golems, we were able to destroy these and the mage who created them in rather short order. I did not feel bad about this, since he was a servant of Karzoug.

We looted the place thoroughly, and before we left, I stopped by each of the fountains and spoke to the goldfish. In every language I knew, I said:

“I know what you are. I’ll come back for you. Hang in there.”

Edyan took rubbings of the riddle covered walls, and we left.

  



	27. Wrath

Of the seven corridors in Runeforge, Wrath was the one I feared the most. Wrath was the sin of which I was most guilty, and I feared what the Halls of Wrath would do to me. I had felt sick in the Abjurant Halls of Envy – strangely enough, I had felt nothing unusual in the Iron Cages of Lust or the Shimmering Veils of Pride, though I considered myself guilty of both of those sins. I did not understand how the magic of it all worked, and that made it all the more terrifying.

Fortunately, I did not have time to wallow in self-pity before entering the Halls of Wrath. Our front-liners went straight into it after leaving the Vaults of Greed, and I wasn’t about to fall behind the group. As we passed the statue of Runelord Alaznist, I expected to feel sick, but strangely enough, this didn’t happen. On the contrary, I felt strong, alive, invigorated. I was not being punished for my sin – I was being rewarded for it, which was inexplicably worse.

The large hall that opened up at the end of the corridor was guarded by seven archers lined up in a row on a ledge on the far wall. As soon as Tenebis took his first steps into the room, the archers began to loose volleys of arrows down upon us. As we flew into combat, I could not help but notice that the archers had put themselves in a terrible tactical position – they had the high ground, certainly, but with all seven of them lined up on that ledge, in a perfect row, with nowhere to move to, I could not resist. I turned myself invisible, so they would not see my approach, and flew up to join them, landing on the end of the ledge right next to the left-most archer. I took a deep breath and exhaled a long line of fire. The first four archers in the line contorted in pain as they were burned. My invisibility dropped; I was unable to maintain it while I attacked. The archer right next to me turned to see me before she dropped, and loosed three arrows at point blank range into my gut. Then Tenebis’ sword came down between her ears and she died.

I jumped from the ledge, spreading my wings and trusting them to slow my descent as I focused on restoring my invisibility. Three arrows to the gut was really all the damage I felt like taking at the moment, but it was definitely worth it. As my allies finished off the rest of the archers, I limped back toward the place where I had last seen Asclepius – she was invisible at the moment, of course , but I called out her name and she came to me, pulling the arrows out of my flesh and stopping the bleeding before I passed out.

When the arrows had stopped flying and I was healed, I flew up to Domoki, still invisible and as quiet as I could be, and grabbed his butt, thinking I would give him a little fright. To my surprise, he did not even seem the least bit startled.

“Urhador, that was an unnecessary risk. You could have been killed,” he chided.

“It was just too tempting,” I argued. “They were all standing neatly in a line where I could get them all in one breath. It was worth it. Did you know I was behind you before I touched you?”

“I knew _someone_ was behind me,” he said. “Your wings displace air. And if it had been anyone _but_ you, they would have been unlikely to touch me in that particular location.”

“Fair enough,” I conceded.

◊◊◊

Through the next hallway we found a small room with two circles inscribed in the floor: a red one and a blue one. The runes inscribed in the circles looked vaguely Thassilonian in design, but I did not recognize them.

“Everyone ready?” asked Tenebis.

“Hold on one fucking second,” I objected. “If that is, as I suspect, the master circle, it’s going to spit us out in Xin Shalast, and there are a bunch on things we need to do before we go there.”

“Like what?” asked Ulrick.

“Like enhancing our weapons in the Runeforge, and getting Mr Mutt out of here, and selling the treasure from the Dragon’s hoard and the Vault of Greed so we can upgrade our equipment.”

“Wait, who?” asked Tenebis.

“The prisoner from the Iron Cages of Lust. He calls himself Mr Mutt.”

“That’s a weird name,” pointed out Ulrick.

“Yes, but I wasn’t going to say that to his face,” I explained. “I suspect he may have forgotten his real name, and just picked something for me to call him.”

“I thought we were going to take him to Xin Shalast with us,” said Tenebis.

“Are you kidding?” I asked. “It’ll be more dangerous there than it is here. He’d be a liability. Let’s take him back to the material plane and drop him off at a church, where he’ll be safe.”

“We can argue about ‘Mr Mutt’ later,” pointed out Steranis, “we all agree about Runeforging our weapons, so let’s start with that.”

◊◊◊

We headed back out of the Halls of Wrath and into the central chamber of Runeforge, where the pool still bubbled with powerful magic. Edyan pulled out the journal we’d found in the Veils of Pride and re-read the passage about enhancing weapons:

_The runeforge pool is the key. As I suspected, the occlusion field around Karzoug’s fortress in Xin-Shalast has a flaw. His lack of knowledge of the intricacies of Sorshen’s and my own lord Xanderghul’s powers have left an opening. My agents must use components infused with our lords’ virtues, extract the latent magic within these components, and then anoint their chosen weapons with this raw power. The runeforged pool seems to have enough reserves to enhance no more than half a dozen or so runeforged weapons, but those enhanced with enchantment and illusion magic will be most potent against Karzoug’s defenses. They may even be pivotal in his defeat. For my own part, fragments of any of the mirrors in the Peacock’s Hall should suffice for a component. Delvahine’s... equipment... should suffice for enchantment, although one might be wise to cleanse them before they are handled._

Domoki unslung his backpack from his shoulder and pulled out a canvas sack full of broken mirror shards. Soon I found that everyone except for Domoki was looking at me.

“What?” I asked. “I already called ‘not it’ on picking up the sex toys. Why is everyone looking at me?”

“_Somebody’s_ got to do it,” said Edyan.

“You! You, Edyan! Why don’t _you_ do it?”

“Because you’re probably the only one of us who can talk your way past Mr Mutt,” answered Edyan, logically, “and I’d rather not resort to violence against him.”

I regretfully admitted that this, unlike his previous reason, was actually legitimate. With a heavy sigh, I flew off toward the Cages of Lust.

When I arrived, Mr Mutt was not immediately visible – he must be behind the curtain. I stopped in front of the curtain and called out to him.

“Mr Mutt? It’s Urhador. I need to come in.”

There was no answer.

“Mr Mutt, it’s alright if you don’t want to talk to me right now, but I need to come in and get something.”

There was still no answer, so I pulled aside the curtain and stepped in. What greeted my eyes was a scene of carnage: feather pillows had been torn open and their stuffing dispersed; pages were torn out of books and scattered about the floor; curtains creating internal rooms were shredded and piled in messy heaps; Mr Mutt cowered in a corner, his eyes wide with fear.

“I’m sorry to invade your sanctuary,” I said.

I found what I needed quickly, cast my cleaning charm half a dozen times, just to be safe, threw it all in a bag, an hoofed it out of there.

Rejoining my allies, we added the components to the runeforge pool. The bubbling intensified, and the water in the pool began to visibly glow.

“Hey, Tenebis…” I said.

“What?”

“Dip your sword in the dildo-water.”

“Why me?” asked Tenebis.

“Because you’re always the guinea pig, Tenebis. That’s your job,” I teased.

Tenebis sighed heavily, but then drew his sword and lowered it slowly into the runeforge pool. When he pulled it out, it glowed softly, like him, but before we had time to admire the magically enhanced weapon, we were interrupted by a sound coming from the entrance to the Vaults of Greed. Something was happening.

The statue of Karzoug began to move.

Tenebis and Steranis charged.

Behind me, I heard another sound, and I whipped around to see another animated statue, the mirror image of Karzoug’s, advancing upon us from the opposite side.

◊◊◊

When the animated statues had been destroyed and Edyan had disintegrated the rest of them with a spell (just to be safe, he said), we returned out attention to the runeforge pool. Steranis’ polearm went in, followed by rainmaker and my staff. Ulrick refused to get his gun wet, and Edyan and Pigeon did not use weapons.

The enhanced weapons glowed for a few minutes, then faded, but when I focused on my staff, the faint magical glow was of a subtly different flavour than before. Soon the runeforge pool quieted down and ceased its bubbling and the discussion turned to what to do about Mr Mutt.

Asclepius was finally ready to share some details about how she planned to get us out of here. The spell in question was called _plane shift_. The only problem was that the accuracy of said spell was somewhat lacking: it would get us back to the material plane, but we could appear anywhere between 5 and 500 miles from our intended destination. This led to a spirited discussion between Steranis, Tenebis, and Edyan about what the safest region of Golarion was to send Mr Mutt back to. Of course, I did not think this was a problem at all, since I assumed we would be accompanying him back, and there wasn’t much on Golarion that we couldn’t handle at this point unless we were specifically looking for trouble. To my surprise, Steranis, Tenebis, and Edyan did not seem to share my assumption that we would be accompanying him. Ulrick stayed silent throughout and seemed amused by the whole thing. Asclepius and Domoki were also silent, but somewhat harder to read. And so it fell to me to convince these three supposed heroes that we couldn’t just send a half-crazed man blindly forward into another plane and abandon him to fate. When we’d been at this argument for a good ten minutes, Pigeon finally spoke.

“You realize it is I who knows the spell to get us there, and as such the final decision as to where we go and with whom lies with me.”

This caused the four of us to finally pause in our bickering and look at her expectantly. She was right: what we wanted didn’t matter if she wasn’t willing to execute the plan.

“I will not send him back to Golarion alone,” she continued. “I will accompany him, along with Urhador and anyone else who wishes to come. Urhador, where are we going?”

“Thank you, Asclepius. Thus far, home base has been Magnimar, but if we’re aiming to sell the loot from the Dragon’s lair and Runeforge, I don’t know if there’s enough money in all of Magnimar to pay for it. We’re going to Absalom. The plane shift will land us off target, probably over ocean, but we can fly so that’s not an issue. Then we’ll teleport the rest of the way to Absalom.”

Asclepius seemed amenable to this plan, but as she could not cast _plane shift_ until tomorrow, we took the rest of the day off.

When I got Domoki alone, I had some words for him.

“Domoki, it would have been nice if you could’ve had my back in that argument back there. There are times when it feels like me and Pigeon are the only ones here with a moral bone in our bodies, and I _know_ that’s not true.

“I agreed with you,” said Domoki. “But I’m no good at convincing anyone of anything. You are. You had that. I like to watch you work.”

“I did _not_ have that. The only reason I won the argument was because Pigeon was on my side, and she’s the only one who can actually do anything about our situation.”

“You _did_ have that,” countered Domoki. “The only reason it lasted until Pigeon cut in is because the others don’t realize when they’ve lost.”

“I appreciate your confidence in me, Domoki,” I said, taking both his hands in mine, “but it still would have been nice to know you had my back. Even if it wouldn’t convince the others of anything. _I_ need to hear it.”

“Noted,” he said. “If it happens again, I’ll try to let you know I’m with you.”

Domoki snaked his hands up my arms to my shoulders, pulled me close, and held me. It was exactly what I need. Lately, the only times I felt truly safe were when I was in his arms, as if somehow he could protect me from every evil in the multiverse. I breathed in his mossy scent and melted into his embrace.

◊◊◊

The next morning, we finished packing up our treasure and I went to fetch Mr Mutt for the trip back to the material plane. I stopped at the curtain and called out to him, and he did not respond. When I entered the curtained pavilion, I found him asleep, curled up in a nest of shredded velvet curtains. I called his name again, and still he did not stir. I was going to have to touch him. He was not going to like that.

I approached and gently shook him awake by the shoulder. He woke with a start, saw me, and attacked. I took the hits without complaint, and backed off as quickly as I could. Fortunately, he did not come after me. As the space opened up between me and his nest, his aggression shifted from the offensive to the defensive, and gradually he calmed down enough that I could talk to him.

“I’m sorry to wake you, Mr Mutt,” I said. “My friends and I are getting out of here now. We thought you might like to come with us.”

“No. No. No way out,” he repeated.

“There is a way out,” I assured him. “Our cleric – the woman that healed you – she knows a spell to get us out of here.”

“Don’t trust her. No. No. Don’t trust her. No way out.”

“She’s brought several people back from the dead,” I pointed out. “If she says she can do something, I’m sort of inclined to trust her.”

“Fine. Fine. You go. I’m staying. No way out.”

“Mr Mutt,” I began, “My friends and I – we are on a mission. A very dangerous mission, to kill Karzoug. We are about to go to Xin Shalast to confront him, and I do not know if we will return or not. I cannot guarantee that we can come back for you afterwards. In the time that you’ve been here, how many times have visitors come from outside?”

“None,” he admitted. “You were the first. How long have I been here?”

“That’s hard to say,” I explained. “Are you a subject of the Empire of Thassilon?”

“Yes,” he said. “Does High Lady Sorshen still rule in the lands above?”

“No,” I said. “I’m afraid Thassilon fell ten thousand years ago.”

I waited for the shock to wear off.

“Good,” he said, finally. “Thassilon was a shit Empire.”

And here I found my opening. Thassilon had indeed been a shit Empire, as far as I had heard. If I could convince him Golarion was a better place now, I might be able to convince him to rejoin the world. I told him of Absalom: _the City at the Center of the World_, where we were going. I told him of Andoran, the Birthplace of Freedom, where the people ruled themselves and slavery was outlawed, and of the Eagle Knights who sought to end slavery across Golarion. I carefully did not mention Cheliax. He listened, captivated, like a young child being told about Dragons for the first time.

“I will come with you to Absalom,” he said, when I finished my tale.

◊◊◊

The seven of us and Mr Mutt stood in a circle and held hands. Edyan cast _life bubble_. Asclepius cast _plane shift_. Our surroundings began to swirl around us and then slowly fell away to reveal – water. We were under water. The life bubble formed a protective barrier around each of us, giving us air to breathe. I looked over to Mr Mutt, to see how he was taking it. He was there for only a second. Then he disintegrated before my eyes into a small pile of ash, the life bubble around him blinking out, and he was swept away by the waves.

Edyan cast teleport, and the ocean-scape was replaced by the bustling streets of Absalom.

“What happened back there?” I asked. I had a feeling I knew the answer, but I wanted to know if the others had come to the same conclusion I had.

“He was ten thousand years old,” said Asclepius. “Only the magic of the Runeforge was keeping him alive. Out here, he reverted to his natural state – which was very, very dead.”

“Did you know that would happen?” I asked.

“No,” she answered.

“Perhaps it is for the better,” I decided. “His soul can move on now, to wherever it’s bound for.”

“Perhaps,” said Asclepius, not entirely convinced.

◊◊◊

It took us a week to find buyers for the various treasures we picked up. When we had completed our business in Absalom, we gathered in the back room of the inn and _plane shifted_ back to Runeforge. Since Edyan had disintegrated the Runelord statues, it took us a few minutes to figure out which hallway led to the Halls of Wrath. We returned to the room with the circles in the floor. Steranis summoned a Donkey which appeared out of thin air at his bidding, and sent it into the center of the red circle. Nothing happened. He prodded it forward into the blue circle, and it disappeared.

“Blue circle it is,” said Tenebis, as he took two steps forward into the blue circle and disappeared. We followed him through and found him in a room with no doors being attacked by half a dozen eldritch knights and as many sinspawn. We killed them and took their stuff as the donkey shied away to a corner and tried to hide.

“Dammit, we just sold a bunch a stuff, and now we’re gonna have to go back!” complained Tenebis, as he stripped an Eldritch Knight from his ornate decorative armour.

“Something tells me this is not Xin Shalast,” I observed, taking in my surroundings. This room, like the last one, had red and blue circles carved into the floor, and we had appeared in the red one. Training dummies were scattered throughout the room along with dulled weapons for sparring.

Steranis checked the walls for secret doors. The summoned donkey blinked out of existence. Steranis seemed unsurprised, and moved on to inspecting the ceiling.

“There’s no way in or out of here except for the circles,” concluded Steranis.

We moved over to the blue circle and stepped through, all together this time, and were transported to some sort of laboratory. Workbenches ringed the room, and in its center stood a wide vat, bubbling with clear liquid. Suspended inside the vat was a nondescript mass of flesh.

“That’s how they make more of themselves,” suggested Edyan.

“Gross,” said Ulrick.

This room also contained no other ways in or out but the circles on the floor, so once again we moved on through the blue circle to whatever lay on the other side.

This is where we found the mage in charge of the Halls of Wrath. She was rather flashy in terms of her magic, fond of lightning and icicles and fire. The demon that she summoned to fight at her side did not like being here alone, and summoned some of its friends in turn from the abyss. But the time we killed them all, we were charred, frostbitten, and electrocuted, and had to take a rather long breather for Asclepius to heal us up.

This room had the same red and blue circles on the floor as the others so far, but a third black circle joined them here, the Sihedron rune inscribed on the inside.

“_This_ is the master circle,” asserted Edyan. “These other ones must be lesser circles.”

Having just fought a handful of demons, we decided to rest for the night before proceeding through the master circle.

◊◊◊

Early the next morning, we gathered round the black circle and stepped in.

Nothing happened.

“Is there something we’re supposed to say to activate it?” I asked.

“Not as far as I know,” said Edyan, stepping back to inspect the circle again.

“The fucking master circle is broken!” complained Ulrick.

Edyan spent the rest of the dead poring over his notes trying to figure out how to activate the circle, with no luck.

“Now how do we get to Xin Shalast?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “Let’s go back to Absalom. I’ve got a lot more reading to do, and it’s comfortable there.”


	28. Looking for Xin Shallast

“So, what now?” I asked Edyan, once we’d gotten ourselves back to Absalom.

“I need to hole up in a library for a while,” he replied, “go over my notes, see if there’s anything I’ve missed, and search the literature for references to Mhar Massif.”

“Anything I can do to help?” I offered.

“Well, you do speak Draconic and Thassilonian, so you won’t be completely useless,” he granted.

Edyan and I holed up in the Forae Logos, Absalom’s largest library, and while he pored over his notes, he sent me off to retrieve volumes of various encyclopedia, textbooks, and journals. Many of these texts were available in the Forae Logos itself, but others required me to return via teleportation to the archives under Jorgenfist, which still had not been reclaimed by the Stone Giants – I supposed they hadn’t any desire to, not being a particularly scholarly lot.

In between these errands, I took the time to scribe copies of the important documents we’d found on our adventure – letters, journals, and so on belonging to the nefarious characters we’d defeated. Those that were not written in Taldane I transcribed twice: once in the original language and once in Taldane.

Edyan rarely spoke throughout this exercise, except to ask me for another book he needed, but I didn’t mind. I vastly preferred Edyan’s silence to our previous scholar’s insults. He was focused on his work, which was how it ought to be.

This went on for three weeks: by day I fetched books and scrolls and maps, and in the evenings Domoki would stop by the library and drag me away and make sure I ate and slept (and “slept” – the latter not being strictly necessary for my survival, but very much appreciated nonetheless).

It was on a Moonday afternoon, shortly after lunch, that Edyan finally gave up. His body sagged and his head sank down until it rested on the open book in front of him. At first I thought he had fallen asleep, but then he spoke, not bothering to lift his head to look at me.

“There’s nothing here, Urhador,” he groaned. “I am stuck.”

“Tell me what you have so far,” I encouraged. “Perhaps I can help.”

Edyan shuffled through his papers and produced a map of Varisia.

“Mhar Massif is supposed to be located by the headwaters of the River Avah, in the Kodar Mountains. The problem is, there is no river Avah. Not in the Kodar mountains, not anywhere else in the world, at least not according to any of the maps I’ve found in the greatest library on Golarion. The only other mention of the river Avah that I’ve found does not tell me where it is, but does imply that its waters eventually end up in Storval Deep. From this I can discount the entire western half of the Kodar mountains, since that area drains directly into the ocean, but I’m still left with this whole region here; the Kazaron River, the Storval River, the Stalak River, and every one of their tributaries. That’s twenty thousand square miles to search. It would take us months, and that’s if it’s visible from the outside. For all we know, it isn’t, and we could fly right over it without knowing it’s there.”

Edyan showed me the sources of all these findings, and by the time Domoki collected me that evening, we were no closer to finding Xin Shalast.

“It’s ok, Edyan,” I reassured him, as I got up to leave. “If we have to search twenty thousand square miles of the Kodar Mountains, we will.”

“And if it’s invisible?”

“Tenebis is possessed by an Angel,” I pointed out. “If there’s a hidden city there, he’ll see it.”

This was perhaps more wishful thinking than it was true confidence, but if I was going to convince the others to search twenty thousand square miles of mountains, I had damned well better _act_ confident.

◊◊◊

With Edyan’s research having reached a dead end, I had one more thing to do before we left on our search for the hidden city. Our mission had grown recently in scope from saving my village to saving Varisia to quite possibly saving all of Golarion. If we failed in this mission, someone else would have to try. To this end, I needed to let someone know where we were going – someone who had the power to do something about it if we didn’t return. For this task, I returned to my own preferred form of information-gathering: not from books, but from people.

And so it was into the taverns and bars of Absolom that I went: making friends and telling stories and inquiring gently about where I might find other adventurers such as myself. And the vast majority of these conversations pointed me to one place: the Grand Lodge of the Pathfinder Society. The Pathfinder Society was some sort of adventurers’ guild which seemed rather famous (or infamous, depending on whom you asked) around town.

After picking up Domoki from the archery range to serve as my lie detector, I made my way to the Foreign Quarter and knocked on the door of the Grand Lodge. The door was answered by a dark skinned elven woman in a guard uniform. Her eyes searched me up and down in a flash, then proceeded to do the same to Domoki, as if searching for some sort of insignia. Not seeing what she was looking for, she adjusted her stance to more thoroughly block the doorway, then asked:

“What is your business here?”

“My name is Urhador, and this is Domoki,” I said, expediting the introductions so I could get to the point, as she seemed rather impatient. “We have information that we wish to share with the Pathfinder Society.”

“What sort of information,” she asked, in a monotone, as if following a script that she had grown bored of.

“Information about a threat rising in Varisia,” I answered, “that may turn out to be a threat to the whole world.”

She looked into my eyes skeptically for a few moments, but then nodded.

“I will see if a Venture Captain can see you,” she said. “Wait here.”

She slammed the door in my face.

We waited, having nothing better to do at the moment, but not entirely sure if she planned on returning. A few minutes later, however, she was back.

“Venture Captain Marenus can see you on Fireday at 10,” she said, curtly. “Don’t be late.”

“Fireday,” I said. “My favourite day!” and I turned to leave.

At this her face finally warmed a little and she called after me,

“Urhador?”

“Yes,” I said, turning back to face her.

“Why do they call you ‘fire thrower’?”

I raised my right hand and conjured a small ball of fire which danced above my palm. I gave it a little toss and it took the shape of a Dragon which circled me a few times and returned to me palm.

“Cute,” she said.

I winked, then took Domoki by the arm so as not to give the wrong impression, and sauntered away.

“Well she was rather rude,” said Domoki, once we were safely out of earshot.

“Eh,” I said. “You have to admit complete strangers showing up at their door wanting to be informants is kinda suspicious. I don’t blame her.”

“What was it she said about ‘fire thrower’? How did she know?” he asked.

“Oh. ‘Urhador’ is Elvish for ‘fire thrower’. Did you not know that?”

“I did not. That makes a lot of sense though.”

“I didn’t choose it,” I explained. “It started as an insult. My Dragon blood started to manifest itself during puberty, and I wasn’t fully in control of it at first. It resulted in a number of… unfortunate fire-related accidents. Nobody was badly hurt, but there was a fair amount of destruction of property. I spent a few months in prison with an anti-magic field up, but eventually someone in authority realized that the only way I could learn to control it was to practice. And so another sorcerer was called in, and I was allowed out of my cell for a few hours each day in order to practice my magic under his tutelage. Eventually I did gain enough control over it to no longer be considered a public threat, and I was released. When I got out, my peers dubbed me ‘Urhador’ and used to taunt me with the name – fourteen year olds aren’t always the most accepting of differences. So for five years, that’s all ‘Urhador’ was – an insult used to call attention to my weird pyromania. It was my first boyfriend, Andrei, when I was nineteen, who suggested I own the name. He said ‘if you wear it as a badge of honour, they can’t hurt you with it’ and he was right. I started using it more and more, and when I moved to Sandpoint two years later, I introduced myself by the name ‘Urhador,’ and now hardly anyone knows my real name except family.”

Domoki stopped walking, turned to face me, and took my face in his hands.

“You are who you are no matter the name. You are my flame and the one to whom I protect with my bow and my rocky cropping of a heart for as long as we are allowed.”

He paused and kissed me softly, and someone walking by yelled at us to get a room.

“The past will always be with you,” he continued. “But it made you to be the being you are now, the one struggling to survive and save the world, the one I love so completely. Though it may pain you I will stand by you for what I know of you, am yet to know, and will never know.”

I smiled.

“I kinda like the name now, even though its history is less than pleasant. But I don't like to keep secrets from you, my gem, so I'm sharing what I can with you of my past. And – if ever you can manage to pronounce my real name, I think I'd like that.”

◊◊◊

We killed time until Fireday. For my own part, I toured the markets of Absalom, and came across all manner of magical curiosities. I purchased some scrolls and wands and such that seemed likely to be useful. A particularly persuasive vendor managed to sell me a ring of blinking. It was a curious item which when worn, caused the wearer to rapidly shift back and forth between the material plane and the ethereal plane such that anyone trying to attack you was just as likely to pass their blade right through the empty space where you had been half a moment ago as to actually hit you. While it was not common for our enemies to direct their attacks at me, I figured it was better safe than sorry, and I had the money for it.

I tried the ring out for a couple of days and cast some spells to make sure it didn’t get in the way. Every once in a while it happened that the spell I was casting went off while I was in the ethereal plane, and thus had to effect on the real world, but this didn’t seem to happen very often so I decided I could live with it.

Domoki bought some new arrows and had his bow enchanted with ice magic, something I didn’t know how to do. Now his arrows were somehow flaming and icy at the same time, which in some manner or another didn’t seem to cancel out and caused anything he shot to become both frost damaged and charred.

I didn’t pay much attention to what anyone else was doing.

We headed back on Fireday, unarmed, for our appointment with the Venture Captain and were led into a small office lined with tall bookshelves. I could sense the oppressive weight of an anti-magic field inside, which was unsurprising but rather uncomfortable for me given my previous experience with them.

Venture Captain Marenus was a small human man with short, jet black hair and a pointed chin. He shook both our hands and invited us to sit down.

“I understand you have information that you’d like to share with the Pathfinder Society,” he said, once we’d settled in. “You say there is a threat rising in Varisia?”

“Perhaps it is best if I begin at the beginning,” I said.

And so I recounted our story, beginning on that fateful day at the Swallowtail Festival in Sandpoint, and explaining everything that had happened since – just as I have in this book although in considerably less detail, and leaving out the personal bits. As I talked, I handed over the copies I’d made of the documents we’d found, one at a time as they became relevant. Venture Captain Marenus’ eyes widened as my story went on, and he sat up a little straighter in his seat. When I got to the part where the Runelords became especially relevant, he asked me to stop, and called for the guard outside the door to fetch another Venture Captain by the name of Ethranid who apparently knew more about this sort of thing. Venture Captain Ethranid was an older elf, distinguished in his appearance. I continued my story, speaking now to the two of them, until I reached the end of our time at Runeforge.

“And so now we plan to storm Xin Shalast and kill Karzoug before he enslaves Varisia again,” I concluded. “And I came here to tell you this, because if we do not return, it might be in your best interest to send another team.”

The weight of the anti-magic field was pressing in on me, and at this point I was eager to end our meeting. I focused on breathing deeply and tried not to let the strain show on my face. I didn’t want our hosts to know that their safety measures were making me uncomfortable.

The older man thought carefully before he spoke.

“I have heard about you and your group before, Urhador, and I must admit I was impressed by what I heard. The seven of you are better fighters than any of our agents, but what we lack in specialized skill, we make up for in numbers. If you do not return, we will see what we can do about saving Varisia. However, I do have one question for you: do you know _precisely_ where Xin Shalast is?”

“Not _precisely,_” I admitted. “We’ve narrowed it down to the Eastern third of the Kodar mountains, but beyond that, we were really just planning on an overhead search.”

“I regret that I cannot help you with that,” replied the Elf, “for that is the extent of my knowledge as well.”

“Your regrets are unnecessary,” I protested. “I did not come here expecting help. I came to warn you, and having accomplished that, I shall take my leave.”

“Not so fast,” warned the Elf. “I myself do not know where Xin Shalast is, and as far as I can tell, that information is not recorded in any of the libraries of Golarion – trust me, I’ve looked. However, I do know some people, and I can tell you with certainty that if anyone in the world knows the location of Xin Shalast, it is Brodert Quink. He lives in Sandpoint. Do you know him?”

I was somewhat taken aback by this recommendation. I had always dismissed Quink as a bit of a nutcase, and yet here I was at the city at the centre of the world, talking to a Venture Captain of what was purported to be the world’s largest and best Adventurer’s guild, and I was being referred back to old One-eyed-Quinky.

“I do,” I said. “I shall have a word with him. Thank you again for your time, gentlemen, and I shall be on my way.”

The younger Venture Captain reached into his desk drawer as I stood to leave, and pulled out a smooth, polished black stone.

“This is a sending stone,” he said, handing it over. “If you find Xin Shalast, let us know where it is.”

“I will,” I promised, accepting the stone and pocketing it. “Good day, gentlemen.”

◊◊◊

As soon as we were out of the building, I slumped against a wall to catch my breath.

“What’s wrong?” asked Domoki. “Are you ok? What happened?”

“I’m fine,” I said. “I just need to catch my breath.”

Domoki hovered over me, shielding me from the stares of passers-by until I was ready to talk again.

“They had an anti-magic field in there,” I explained. “It just… felt like it was stifling me.”

“Ah… Memories of prison?” he asked.

“I guess, but… the funny thing is it was never nearly that bad when I was actually _in_ prison. It was ten times worse than that just now. I think anti-magic fields must feel worse the more powerful your magic is.”

“What can I do to help?”

“I think I’m ok now,” I answered. “Let’s just get back to the inn.”

“I don’t have to shoot anyone for hurting my flame?” he asked.

“Please don’t.”

When we got back to the Golden Serpent, where we’d been staying, the rest of the party was gathered around a table for dinner. My strength had returned to me on the way back from the Grand Lodge, so I sat down to get everyone up to speed.

“…Quink probably won’t know where it is either, but I figure we might as well check him out if it has a chance of saving us a few months of searching,” I concluded, as I finished my recounting of our meeting.

“We’ll go back to Sandpoint and talk to Quink before we go the mountains,” agreed Tenebis. “Steranis, when will you be ready to go?”

“I’ve got another month’s worth of retraining that I’d like to do,” said Steranis.

“You started a retraining regimen while Karzoug is awakening?” asked Edyan, incredulous.

“Well, I didn’t know how long your research would take you,” he argued. “And besides, if I waited until _after _we confronted Karzoug, my retraining wouldn’t do a whole lot of good.”

“Well… Karzoug has waited ten thousand years, he can probably wait another month,” said Edyan, reluctantly.

◊◊◊

The next month before we left on our search for Xin Shalast was pure bliss – I’d done everything I needed to do to be ready to go, and was free to spend this remaining time with Domoki doing whatever our hearts desired. We spent time at the archery range. We flew over the city and around the island, and although he had his own method of flying now with the magic carpet, he was happy to fly in my arms for as long as I would carry him.

We explored the city together, and when the people got too much for him, we snuck away into the forest for some peace and quiet. We found hot springs, and I even managed to coax him into one of the shallower pools. We went to the beach to find dry sand and I made him a rose out of glass (he still has it to this day). We found an abandoned watchtower, its staircase having long since crumbled to dust. We flew to the top of it and lay on our backs watching the stars go by. Absalom was near the equator and quite warm, so the weather did not force us inside, and with Domoki by my side and nobody knowing quite where we were, I finally felt safe enough to spend some nights outside. On these nights we would drift in and out of sleep, listen to the crickets, and make love under the stars. It was a small glimpse into an existence in which time barely existed; spring had come and we spent an entire day watching a robin build its nest. I almost forgot, for a few brief moments, about the danger that loomed over our heads, about our mission, and about everything else in the world but him.

It was on one of our last nights out atop the watchtower that I finally looked him in the eyes and said what I’d been wanting to say ever since I’d first woken up in his arms in that room at the inn in Magnimar.

“I love you, Domoki,” I whispered, gazing deeply into his liquid brown eyes.

“I know,” he answered, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze.

“I never said it before,” I said, by means of explanation, perhaps, but really more as an apology.

“I can read micro-expressions, my Dragon,” he pointed out. “You think I can’t tell when someone’s in love with me?”

I laughed.

“I suppose not,” I admitted.

“It’s nice to hear you say it though,” said Domoki. He pulled me close and I kissed him, gently at first and then more and more hungrily as I lost myself in his touch.

◊◊◊

When this month of bliss was over and it was time to leave for Xin Shalast, it was Edyan who dragged us out of our little paradise. His voice sounded in my head, the result of a _sending_ spell, I was sure.

“Urhador, where are you two love birds?” it asked. “We’re supposed to head back to Sandpoint today.”

I kicked myself a little for losing track of time, then replied to his message sheepishly.

“Sorry about that. We’ll be there in half an hour.”

Strictly speaking, the fastest way of returning to the group would have been to teleport there, but I felt that would have been too abrupt an ending to our romantic getaway. Instead we flew back, with him nestled in my arms, and savoured our last few moments of solitude together before there would be eyes on us once again.

We met up with the rest of the group at the Golden Serpent and together we teleported back to Sandpoint to have a little visit with Quink. Of course, my natural place to teleport to was the Rusty Dragon, it being most familiar to me, so we ended up there first and had a little visit with Ameiko before heading off to Quink’s. Ameiko scolded me, as usual, for teleporting into the middle of her dining room, but seconds later I was wrapped in her arms in a hug, and I knew I had no reason to worry.

“Can your mission to save the world wait long enough for you to stay for lunch?” she asked, once she had let go of me.

“I suppose so,” I said. “It’s nice to see you, too.”

Ameiko sat down with us for lunch, and we told her about Runeforge and everything that had happened inside. When lunch was over and I followed her into the kitchen and grabbed a pot and stiff brush.

“So how are you holding up, Ameiko?” I asked. “I know this year’s been pretty shitty for you, and… I should have been around more to support you.”

“You were off saving the world, Urhador,” she answered, with a smile. “I think that takes precedence over my personal problems.”

“It’s not like we didn’t have down time,” I admitted. “But I spent it gallivanting around Magnimar and Absalom. I should have spent it here.”

“It’s alright, Urhador,” she assured me. “I managed just fine. In fact, sometimes I think it’s me that should be out there with you, saving the world.”

“Ameiko, you quit the adventuring life for a reason,” I reminded her, “and it was a good reason.”

“It was a selfish reason,” she argued. “I couldn’t handle the killing.”

“That’s because you have a good heart, Ameiko,” I said, putting down my pot for a moment and looking her in the eyes. “I could not be more proud of the way you turned out if you were my own daughter.”

Ameiko smiled and picked up another pot to scrub.

“I put Tsuto’s ashes in the family crypt,” she added, after some time. “He made a lot of bad decisions at the end, but he was my brother, and he deserves that much, I think.”

“That’s good to hear,” I said.

“Das has expanded the Smithy, and I’m renting out the old glassworks building to him.”

“Does he still have the little Barrett boy working for him?” I asked.

“Yes, I think so,” she answered.

“That’s good. I wasn’t sure if he’d do well there, but I’m glad it’s worked out.”

“So, Urhador…” she said.

“Yes?”

“I’m waiting for you to tell me something important…”

“Oh?”

“It appears that you and Domoki are together now.”

“Oh! Yes! That!” I said, realising only now how long it had been since I had seen her that she didn’t know that yet. “We are. How did you… what gave it away?”

“You were holding hands when you teleported in.”

“I was holding hands with _everyone_ when I teleported in. That’s how teleportation works.”

“Yes, but you also let go of Tenebis’ hand as soon as you materialized. You held on to Domoki’s for just a few seconds longer, as if it belonged there.”

“So, in the five seconds between me appearing in your dining room and you clobbering me with a hug, you had this figured out.”

“Yep,” she said, smugly.

“Ameiko, my dear, your powers of observation continue to astound me.”

◊◊◊

Word spread quickly that the heroes of Sandpoint were back in town and people starting gathering in the street to get a look at us as we walked from the Rusty Dragon to Brodert Quink’s house. Domoki walked beside me and reached for my hand. I pulled it away.

“Are you sure you want to do that?” I asked, quietly. “I can tell you from experience that the people here are not nearly as accepting as the people in Magnimar or Absalom. This is a small town with small town attitudes.”

“Yes, I’m sure,” he answered. “If it’s as bad as you say it is, I need to see it for myself.”

I reached out and took his hand. People whispered. A woman reached out to cover her children’s eyes. A few people turned around and went back into their homes. Nobody yelled anything hateful, though, which was a nice change. I supposed it probably had something to do with the fact that either one of us could have killed one of _them_ in five seconds flat and they knew it. I wasn’t sure if that was the sort of respect I was after.

I glanced over at Domoki to see how he was taking it. His eyes had narrowed and his lips were slightly pursed but as I turned to look at him straight on, he seemed more puzzled than upset. I gave his hand a reassuring squeeze and we went on.

When we arrived at Quink’s I let go of Domoki’s hand, knocked on the door, and waited.

“There in a minute!” I heard, from within. This was followed by a number of shuffling and clattering sounds approaching the door. The door opened a crack and Quink poked his long crooked nose and his one good eye out to see who it was.

“Ah! The heroes of Sandpoint!” he exclaimed. “Come in!”

We carefully picked our way in around the stacks of books and artefacts that littered his hallway. Quink hobbled back into his house and led us to a sitting room. The couch was, of course, covered with books as well, so I remained standing while he sat down in the one armchair that was free of clutter.

“What can I do for you?” he asked.

“We’re looking for Xin Shalast,” I said. “And I’ve been _told_ that if anyone in the world knows where it is, it’s you.”

“Who told you that?” he inquired.

“Venture Captain Ethranid.”

“Ah. Haven’t seen Ethranid in years. It would appear he still thinks highly of me. Do not fret. His confidence in me is not misplaced. Now… where did I put that letter?”

I looked around the room. There must have been a thousand books in this room alone, lining the walls in tall bookcases, stacked on tables and chairs and the couch and the floor, and mixed with loose papers and scrolls. A stack of boxes filled the southern end of the room, completely obscuring the window there. I sighed. If finding Xin Shalast depended upon Quink finding a particular letter in this mess, I wasn’t convinced this was a short cut. It would take just as long to search this room for a letter as it would to search the Kodar Mountains for a city.

Quink shuffled through the papers on the top of his desk for some time, then moved on to the drawers. When twenty minutes had passed, he gave up the search of the desk.

“I must have put it away,” he mumbled.

Quink hobbled across the room to the stack of boxes, muttering to himself.

“4663? Or was it 4664? Sometime around then, surely.”

As I followed him over to the stack of boxes, I saw that they were labelled, each one with a year. There were several dozen boxes here, and if there was one for each year, as it appeared, these must go as far back as the ‘40’s.

“You’re looking for ’63?” I asked, trying to be helpful.

“Yes,” he answered. “Do you think you could find it for me?”

We all traipsed over and began to sort through the boxes, moving them from one stack to another until we found the one marked ‘4663’ in neat black type.

“I’m looking for a letter from a man who calls himself Redwing,” he said, as he sat back down at his desk and took the lid off of the box we’d brought him.

Another ten minutes and he was through 4663, presumably not having found the letter in question.

“Hmm,” he said. “I could have sworn it was 4663. It was definitely sometime around then. Bring me 4664, will you?”

Someone brought him the box marked 4664, and in the meantime the rest of us started looking through the boxes of the proximate years. It was Ulrick who eventually found the letter, halfway through the ‘4661’ box, which he waved around in the air with a triumphant cry. We gathered round to read it:

_Salutations, Mr. Quink!_

_Thank you again for the kind words and drink. It’s always a pleasure to speak with readers of my work, especially those well-read and civilized enough to know of my writing beyond Eidolon. Alas, I was unable to procure a copy of the early draft from my personal files. It would seem that it has gone the way of so much of my early work, lost forever to the gulfs of time and narrow-minded publishers unable to grasp the import of a young Pathfinder’s work._

_Fortunately, my mind is as quick now as it was in those early days of my explorations of your fantastic homeland. I recall the evening I first heard the story of Xin-Shalast, while seated on a log in a Varisian camp, sharing ruby mead with an enchanting young woman. Ah, but that’s a story for other times._

_I was intrigued by the tale, though. All peoples have tales of “cities of gold,” yet with Xin- Shalast, the Varisians had no tradition of explorers seeking it. They viewed the place as one of evil, a place to be feared and forsaken. As far as I could tell, none of your indigenous people ever sought out the ruins before the advent of Chelish rule. But there was mention, come to think of it, of two dwarven brothers. Vekker, I think their names were. Claimed to have found the route to Xin-Shalast and convinced several tradesmen in Janderhoff to support and supply their plan to establish a base of operations in the low Kodar Mountains along the Kazaron. Their vanishing into the Kodars bankrupted all but one of their investors, I hear, and even today, the Vekker name is generally accompanied by a litany of rousing dwarven profanity when it comes up in ‘Hoffian taverns._

_In the stead of enclosing a copy of the early, complete draft of my work, though, please find a signed copy of Eidolon with this missive. I trust it will look quite handsome on your shelf._

_In good health,_

_Redwing_

“So, do you believe the Kazaron is the River Avah?” asked Edyan.

“I don’t know,” said Quink carefully, “but I think if you start in the foothills and follow the Kazaron North, you’re likely to find the Vekkers’ base of operations. Anyone trying to start up a trade route would have kept extensive records. If they did find a way to Xin Shalast, they’ll have written it down.”

“That does seem likely,” agreed Edyan.

“Well then,” said Quink, “you should go do that and report back when you’ve found it. I am an old man, and it’s time for my afternoon nap. Get out of my house.”

“Thank you, Mr. Quink, for your help,” I said, as I got up to leave.

“And you thought I was a quack,” he muttered.

“I never said that,” I objected.

“Not in so many words, and certainly not today,” he answered.


	29. Vekker

We teleported to Skull’s Crossing, since it was closer, and flew from there: over Storval Deep and across the plateau, following the Kazaron, and soon we found ourselves in the foothills of the Kodar Mountains again. The river weaved lazy loops around the hills until we came to the fork where the Kazaron was joined by the Stalak River. Here we stopped and debated which of the two rivers to follow. Snow had started to fall, and we couldn’t make out much past a couple hundred feet or so. We went back and forth a few times before Steranis, who was squinting into the distance, raised an arm for silence.

“Over there, up the Kazaron,” he said, pointing upriver.

“What is it?” I asked, squinting to make it out. “Your eyes are younger than mine, old man!”

Steranis laughed.

“It’s a cabin of some sort,” he answered. “Let’s go.”

We approached the cabin, and though the snow was picking up, I was able to make out some details. The main part of the cabin was perched at the top of a thirty foot cliff, but a long shaft – which must contain a staircase of perhaps a lift – ran down the side of the cliff and connected it to a smaller enclosed area at the bottom. Off to the side, at the bottom of the cliff stood a lone tree, tall and twisted.

We circled overhead a few times, searching for traps, and finding none, landed at the bottom of the cliff. No sooner had out feet touched soil than the tree to the South picked up its roots and lurched towards us. The tree attacked, clubbing us over the head with its heavy branches. Fortunately, trees are vulnerable to fire.

When the aggressive tree had been chopped up and burned up, we headed into the lower level of the house. The doors were locked, but nobody answered when I knocked. I charmed open the lock on the exterior door, but when we found that the interior doors were also locked, Tenebis got impatient and started kicking down the doors instead.

“Well, there go our chances of making friendly contact with anyone who’s taken up residence here,” I observed.

“If someone lives here, they wouldn’t exactly have been thrilled with you picking their locks in the first place,” pointed out Tenebis.

“I could’ve talked our way out of that,” I argued. “There’s a storm picking up outside, and we needed to take shelter. Besides, picking their locks doesn’t actually damage anything, unlike what you’re doing.”

“Nobody lives here,” Tenebis persisted. “Save your magic for more important things.”

I grumbled a bit, and we went in.

We found ourselves in a small room with a bare plank floor. Against the far wall, a wood-frame cot sized for a Drawf confirmed that we had indeed found the base of operations of the Vekker brothers. A threadbare blanket still lay crumpled on the straw-tick mattress and dusty old pair of work boots stood by the foot of the bed.

Through the next door, we found what looked to be the remains of a mining operation. Mounds of dust and rock cluttered the floor, and barrels and copper tanks lined the walls. In the middle of the room, a heavy wooden table sagged under the weight of a mountain of picks, chisels, hammers, and drills. It was not until the figure in the far corner of the room stood up that I noticed we were not alone.

The ghostly apparition of a Dwarf stood up suddenly, as if surprised by our presence. He was wearing miner’s clothes, and his beard was dusted heavily with what appeared to be gold dust.

“You! You have to try this! It’s so… delicious!” he said, reaching down for another handful of the gold dust and shoving it in his mouth. Of course, the ghost lacked substance, and the gold dust, though he was able to lift it, fell back onto the floor as soon as he swallowed.

For the briefest of moments, I was tempted to comply, but I realized how ridiculous it would be to eat gold and quickly banished the thought from my mind. The Dwarven apparition faded from sight. Edyan walked over and took up a handful of the dust, and as he raised it to his face I wondered if he too had been seized by the compulsion and had been unable to resist. However, Edyan only smelled the dust, then let it sift back through his fingers.

“It’s laced with arsenic,” he informed us.

“Great! Another haunted house that is trying to kill us!” I muttered. “I so enjoyed the last one.”

At this point the gold dust ceased it’s shimmering and it became clear that what we were looking at was nothing more than a pile of mundane dirt. The gold had been an illusion.

The ghost did not seem to be coming back, so we moved on into the ore shaft where a long staircase spiraled up the inside wall to the top of the cliff. In the center of the shaft, an assortments of pulleys and chains hung from the ceiling. Having no particular need for stairs, we flew up the central shaft, Tenebis in the lead as always.

When Tenebis was most of the way up, the rest of us trailing behind him, the chains hanging down from the ceiling jerked and came alive. Animated with some sort of magic, they lashed out at us, pinning wings to bodies, arms to sides, and nearly knocking Domoki off of his magic carpet.

Tenebis drew his sword and began to hack at the chains that restrained his feathered wings. His sword was forged of adamantine and enhanced with magic, and it sliced through the iron chains like butter. I grabbed on to the chains that bound me and waited – fire would not help me against iron.

Tenebis eventually got all of us free and hacked the chains down to lengths of no more than a few feet. They still flailed about where they hung from their pulleys, but the rest of them lay immobile in a pile on the floor. I flew to the top of the stairs, and out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Domoki standing next to the pile of chains on the ground and gathering up a few of the longer lengths, which he then rolled up and stowed in his pack. I wasn’t sure if the purpose of the chains was to give some extra weight to threats he’d made to Ulrick earlier, or if he had something more intimate in mind for them, but that was a question I could ask him later, when we were alone.

The next door opened to another bedroom, in which a pair of short bunk beds stood between a wooden chest and a worn elk-skin rug. The chest contained nothing but old clothing, and there was nothing hidden in the beds or under the rug.

“Tenebis, check the closet,” I instructed. “You never know who could be hiding in the closet.”

“Was that a dig at me?” asked Domoki.

“I would never,” I assured him.

Tenebis pulled aside another elk-skin hanging from a curtain rod and leaned into the closet.

“Not a closet,” he reported, pulling the elk-skin back into place. “That’s the privy. Nothing to see there.”

Next we found ourselves in the kitchen, where an iron cauldron hung over a stone hearth. The rest of the room had been thoroughly ransacked. Firewood, pots and pans, and cooking utensils lay scattered about the floor. Chairs were overturned and a wooden table lay splintered on the ground. Bloodstains marred the floor and walls. As I surveyed the carnage, I became aware of something else, something deep within me: hunger; a more profound hunger than I had ever felt. The next thing my eyes landed on was Tenebis, and through the haze of starvation he looked delicious – and not in a sexual way. Visions filled my mind of my own teeth ripping the flesh off of his bones, devouring him raw.

I shook myself and pushed the thoughts away.

“I think I know how the Vekkers died,” I said aloud.

“I think I know as well,” said Tenebis, and I saw then that his eyes were locked on to me the same way mine must have been locked on to him as I envisioned eating him alive.

“…please don’t eat me?” I said, nervously now.

Domoki stepped in front of me, protectively.

Tenebis shook his own head and tore his eyes away from me.

“Of course not,” he answered. He turned and strode away to open another door.

It was in the larder that we found the bones – Dwarven bones, at least a dozen skeletons in all – the Vekkers must have had company. The bones had been gnawed upon, and tooth marks still marred their surfaces. Asclepius said a prayer, and we closed the door on the bones.

“We should bury these bones,” she said, “once the storm is over.”

I looked out the window to see that indeed the storm had intensified. A blanket of white greeted me outdoors, with no more than a yard or two of visibility.

We continued our search of the house. It was Steranis who noticed the secret door, and after Tenebis had smashed it in, we looted the contents of the strong room: five burlap sacks full of gold dust, the real stuff this time; two sacks of gold nuggets; and the Vekkers’ maps and notes.

“Gold enough to feed a nation – but you can’t eat gold…” whispered Steranis, observing the sad truth of the Vekkers’ fate.

Edyan had completely ignored the gold and sat down with the maps and ledgers, and after a few minutes, he spoke:

“These maps show the locations of their mines,” he started, “but what we’re looking for…”

He opened a notebook to the back, where it was clear that several pages had been torn out.

“…they must have realized how dangerous that information was. The location of Xin Shalast is no longer in here.”

Edyan packed up the books and maps, and Steranis packed up the gold, and we got ready to head out. Storm or no storm, this place was haunted and we were not about to spend the night inside.

We didn’t make it to the front door. No sooner had we exited the strong room than the entire house began to shake. Edyan darted to the bottom of the stairs and hastily summoned a quick and dirty version of his magic cottage. Asclepius, Tenebis, Ulrick and Steranis followed and ducked inside. As for myself, I wasn’t about to be buried in rubble inside a tiny hut when this house came down around us. I quickly located the nearest window, then grabbed for Domoki before barreling through it. Domoki dodged my grasp.

“I have to get the bones out!” he cried, “If the house comes down, we’ll never find them!”

There was no time to reason with him. I knew I couldn’t grab him against his will: he was stronger than me by a considerable margin. I hated to leave him inside this death trap. I made a hasty decision: I would be no good to him buried in the rubble alongside him. At least if I got myself out, I could dig him out afterwards.

I flew full tilt at the window, smashing through it without slowing down. The wind outside tore at my wings and I fought to maintain control of my course. I knew where Domoki was going. Struggling to change direction, I flew up over the house and made my way towards the kitchen window, right next to the pantry. I smashed this window as well. Inside the house, the shaking had intensified: ceiling beams were falling and the floor was on a precarious angle, as if the entire top level of the house was slipping off the cliff. Soon it would plummet 60 feet to the bottom, burying the others in their tiny hut.

“Domoki!” I called into the house, “Come outside! I’ll catch you!”

Moments later, Domoki emerged from the larder, scratched and bitten and carrying an arm-full of bones wrapped in a blanket. He jumped out the window and I caught him. The moment he and the bones exited the house, the shaking stopped and the house was quiet again.

“Ok, so you were right,” I admitted. I flew down to the bottom of the cliff and deposited him on the ground. “What happened in there?” I asked. “Why are you injured?”

“The Dwarves… the dead Dwarves… they tried to eat me…” he stuttered.

I stopped to examine his injuries. His face and chest were scratched; his arms were bitten; there was blood under his fingernails and in his mouth. I had experienced enough haunts to know how this worked by now: the dead Dwarves had done nothing – Domoki had done this all to himself, and he didn’t know it.

I considered my options. He needed healing. Asclepius was inside. We couldn’t take the bones back in. He was unlikely to be willing to part from them. But if I left him alone here, even for a minute, would he hurt himself again? I found myself checking him for weapons: he had rainmaker, of course, but it was next to impossible to shoot oneself with a bow – the geometry didn’t work. He could probably stab himself with an arrow, and that could kill him if he got it in the wrong place. On the other hand, leaving him unarmed felt wrong – we didn’t know what else was out here. Whatever he had done to himself inside, he had been compelled to do by the haunt, and yet he had stopped on his own, without my interference. I suspected that either the haunt had run its course, or his own will had won out over it.

I took both his hands in mine and looked him in the eyes.

“Stay here, Domoki,” I said. “Don’t move. I’m going to get Pigeon.”

“Yes, my flame,” he muttered.

I wrapped my cloak around him for warmth and he accepted it without protest. Then I pushed my way back through the storm towards the house, though in the blinding snow I could not see it anymore. Fortunately, I hadn’t gotten my bearings mixed up, and after a few short moments walking blindly forwards, the house came into view again. I ducked inside.

The tiny hut still stood undisturbed at the bottom of the stairs. I knocked on the door. Edyan opened the door.

“Cowards!” I spat out, “Cowering in your tiny hut while Domoki fixes the problem by himself! Pigeon, we need you.”

It was the first time I had called her Pigeon to her face, and I wondered, after I’d said it, whether she might take offense, seeing as I clearly wasn’t using it as a term of endearment like Domoki did. But she merely stood up and followed me without comment. The others saw that the house had stopped shaking and trailed out behind.

I led Pigeon back out to where I had left Domoki and was relieved to find that he was still there, and no worse off than when I’d left him. Asclepius knelt down and inspected his wounds, then looked up at me, hoping for an explanation. She could clearly tell that it was self-inflicted.

“It was a haunt, near as I can tell,” I explained. “Unfortunately I did not see it happen. I believe it has run its course, though, and that he is no longer a danger to himself.”

“The Dwarves attacked me,” muttered Domoki again. “They tried to eat me!”

Asclepius laid her hands on his chest and closed her eyes, and Domoki’s wounds knit together before our eyes.

“Thanks, Pigeon,” said Domoki.

◊◊◊

In the blinding snow, we dug a shallow grave in the frozen ground and buried the bones of the cannibalized Dwarves. When the last shovel full of icy, snowy earth was packed back down, the ghost of a Dwarf appeared in our midst – the same Dwarf that we had seen eating “gold” inside the house.

“You… you are alive? You do not hunger?” he asked, looking around at all of us gathered around the fresh grave. As the ghost spoke, pieces of his ‘body’ began to fall off, leaving gaping wounds behind. “Ah… that is what I sense in your blood. Greed. You seek the City of Greed. You should abandon your quest, lest you end up like me. Cold. Dead. Eaten. But I suspect you cannot be swayed. Know then that I know the way to Xin-Shalast. I can show you the way, but only if you bring me my brother Karivek. He died on a ledge high above our final mine. I can feel his soul out there, still hungry, still insane. Bring his bones to me so that I might reconcile with him. Once he is at rest, I will show you the way so that I might rest as well…”

By the time he got this far, the Dwarf was nearly gone, replaced by a bloody skeleton.

“We will find your brother,” I promised, as the spirit faded away. “Edyan, get out those maps.”

“Not in this snow,” Edyan countered. “I’m going back inside.”

After a few minutes of study, Edyan was fairly certain he knew where we were going. The snow was beginning to let up a bit (or maybe I was just impatient to get out of this house) so we saw no reason to delay. I fixed the windows I’d broken with a quick spell and we headed out.

We found the body at the top of a cliff, as promised. It had been well preserved by the cold, and it looked as if he had died only yesterday. His feet were missing, his legs ending in charred, blackened stumps at the ankles. He lay in the midst of a collection of gravestones, with names chipped into each one. One bore the name ‘Silas Vekker’. The craftsmanship was poor, as if it had been done in a hurry, and not with the proper tools.

When Tenebis tried to pick up the body, Karivek’s ghost rose out of his body and attacked. The fight against the ghost was not made easier by the fact that a frost wyrm showed up halfway through, lured by the sound of fighting and eager for fresh meat. We beat back the ghost and killed the frost wyrm, and as it died it fell from the cliff and shattered on the ground, sending a spray of icicles and acid and other assorted frost wyrm bits all around it – final retribution for its death. I shielded my face with my arms and as much magic as I could muster, but I still came away bleeding and burned. When I looked up I saw that my allies had taken it worse. Domoki lay unmoving on the ground, but he opened his eyes after a touch from Asclepius. Ulrick, on the other hand, had taken a three foot long icicle through the chest and looked decidedly dead.

Asclepius got to work. When Ulrick returned from the land of the dead and opened his eyes, he was strangely silent. Pigeon spoke first:

“Thank you for saving my life,” she said. “But you don’t stay dead on my watch.”

What did she mean “thank you for saving my life”? I hadn’t seen what happened, but the only thing I could think of what that that icicle had been headed for Pigeon and Ulrick had jumped in front of her at the last second and taken it for her. It seemed decidedly unlike Ulrick, but he had surprised me before.

With Karivek Vekker’s body finally secured, we headed back to the haunted Vekker cabin to reunite him with his brother. As we walked and flew back, we heard in the distance the howls of a wendigo.

◊◊◊

We trudged inside the house with Karivek’s body and soon found ourselves in the kitchen warming ourselves by the fire I’d quickly conjured in the hearth. It was then that the ghosts of both Vekker brothers decided to manifest, Silas’ appearing out of thin air while Karikek’s rose out of his corpse. The corpse crumbled to dust. The brothers faced off in silence for a time, eyes locked, wispy strands of ectoplasm lashing out from their forms at each other and engaging in a ghostly struggle. Karivek’s ghost bared his teeth, and I saw that they had been replaced by the sharp fangs of a predator. The wendigo howled again, this time much closer. Silas did not take his eyes off his brother, but he spoke after the howl had faded.

“The wendigo is drawn to Karivek’s spirit. It will be here soon. I will need you to buy me time.”

Sure enough, minutes later the kitchen window shattered inwards and the wendigo attacked.

“I _just_ fixed that window,” I complained, as I began to pelt it with fireballs.

It became apparent fairly quickly that the wendigo was no match for us. It was a creature of the snow, and as such it was vulnerable to fire. With Edyan and me and Ulrick all throwing fireballs (I don’t know why a gunman throws fireballs, but I had given up on understanding Ulrick by now) it fell quickly.

The wendigo taken care of, our attention returned to the incorporeal struggle between the Vekker brothers. It was hard to say which way it was going, since neither of them really moved, but eventually Karivek finally seemed to relax, as if letting go of a long-held burden. As his ghost faded, his feet grew back and his fangs shrank back down into regular Dwarven teeth. Soon the ghost faded away completely, and Silas turned his attention to us.

“You have saved my brother,” he said. “You have saved me. I should reward you by simply taking the path to Xin-Shalast with me into the beyond, yet I sense that you still harbor a desire to see those golden ruins. Very well. Look to the pages of my ledger for the way, and may Torag watch over you in the darkness to come…”

At this Silas too faded away into nothingness.

“Are you fucking kidding me…” I started.

“Hold on,” said Edyan, unshouldering his pack and retrieving the dead Dwarf’s ledger. He flipped to the back. “The missing pages are back,” he reported. Silas had somehow restored them.

A series of hand-drawn maps identified the River Avah and its source, the Fen of the Ice Mists in the valley below Mhar-Massif. The text read as follows:

_We have found the city of gold. The scale of it is beyond our wildest dreams. You could fit a dozen Absaloms within Xin Shalast with room to spare. Gilded rooftops and spires of stone in every colour of the rainbow are packed together on either side of a golden causeway running through the center of the city. The fortress at the entrance to the city appears to be abandoned. And yet we return to base with no treasure. The air is too thin to breathe up there, and we were forced to turn back after catching sight of the city, but before reaching it. Perhaps if we can secure bottled air, we can return._

_The voyage there was gruelling. We travelled up the Kazaron until we reached its second tributary, the River Avah. The winding route along the River Avah is not one for the faint of heart. There are no banks to walk along and the river itself often rises in cataracts of up to 300 feet in height as it climbs ever higher into the mountains. The waters of the River Avah are freezing cold, yet they themselves were somehow not frozen solid. As we followed the river upstream, the air grew thin and the sky a deep blue. From leaving the Kazaron until we reached the source of the River Avah (which we have named the Fen of the Icemists) we must have climbed thousands of feet in height._

_It was here that we camped and began our assaying activities, setting out from the camp in the morning in whatever direction seemed likely that day and returning at night with rock samples. Though we found no gold, something about this place seemed strangely promising, and driven mad by greed, we decided to extend our trip for another week. We tightened our belts and began rationing food for the trip back. No animals travelled this far up the mountain, so there was no chance of augmenting our rations with game._

_It was on the night of the full moon that I awoke, my belly rumbling with hunger, and left my tent to see before me something quite different. The River Avah no longer began at the Fen of the Icemists. Leading ever further up the mountain was an ethereal projection of a flowing river, coming, it seemed, from the very peak of Mhar-Massif. As I gazed up at the summit, I saw a palace perched on top, tall spires piercing the sky. I woke Karivek, half convinced I was dreaming or hallucinating, but he saw it too._

_Half-starved, but renewed with a sense of purpose from the strange apparition, we set off once again, following the ghostly river to the top. It was in this manner that we came upon the city of Xin Shalast._

_  
_


	30. The Road to Xin Shallast

The journey up the River Avah proved far less punishing for us than it had for the brothers Vekker; we could all fly. In a few days’ time we reached the Fen of the Icemists, a cold, wet, marshy area in the valley below Mhar-Massif. The waters of the fen were below freezing temperature, yet they still ran liquid. I wondered if magic was a play here, or just salt. Pale bulbous fungi and floating lichens speckled the surface of the fen. It was strangely silent here, and I soon realized it was the lack of wildlife that was responsible for that.

We were just beginning to set up camp here when something moved within the fen. We flew over to see a nymph emerge from the waters, clinging to the stem of a tall tree-like fungal structure. She was completely naked, as nymphs tended to be, and I felt cold just looking at her.

“Who are you? What are you doing in my lake?” she asked.

She spoke in druidic, the secret language of the druids, and though I did understand her, I thought it best not to let on to that at first. Steranis was a druid, and he would do better trying to talk to her than I would.

“Well, technically, we’re not _in_ your lake,” answered Steranis. “It looks rather cold. I think we can do without.”

She laughed.

“You’ll do,” she said, switching into Taldane so everyone could understand.

“We are the seven,” I said, answered her original question. “My name is Urhador. We are just passing through, or over, as the case may be. We seek to enter Xin Shalast on a holy mission.”

“I am Svevenka,” she said, extending her hand. As I reached for it, she disappeared and reappeared behind me. “A lot of people entering Xin Shalast lately. Mostly giants. What are you gonna do when you get there?”

I glanced over at Domoki, unsure whether to trust her or not. He shrugged.

“We’re going to kill Karzoug,” I answered honestly.

“Oh, what a splendid idea,” she said. “I wish you luck. You’ll have to stay here until the full moon. The way forward doesn’t appear until then.”

Svevenka cast a spell at Tenebis, and I saw him struggling against it.

“What did she do to you?” I asked Tenebis, glaring daggers at the nymph.

“She tried to turn me into rat,” he answered.

“For some reason, she thought that would be funny,” added Domoki.

“Oh, come on,” argued Svevenka, “it would have been hilarious.”

I continued my disapproving stare.

“I would have changed him back eventually!” she added, defensively. “Anyway, moving on… stay here until the full moon and fast, and the road to Xin Shalast will be shown to you. It takes a great deal of willpower to follow it. If you fail, you’ll end up right back here. I’ve seen men tie themselves together in the hopes of not getting separated, yet once they’d embarked on the road, those who were not strong enough simply cut their ropes or slip out of them, or even just fade away as the planes diverge.”

“Thank you for the warning,” I said, and decided it was my turn for a little prank on her.

I mumbled a spell under my breath as quietly as I could and transformed myself into a green dragon. I could not yet go full sized, and at the moment was only about the size of a horse, but it would do. I looked down at my body, pretending to be completely shocked by the transformation that had just occurred.

“What – what did you do to me?” I asked, in mock confusion. “First you try to turn him into a rat, and now this?”

At this Svevenka began to change as well, taking the shape of an ice elemental.

“What did you do to _me?_” she asked, mirroring my mock confusion. Her act only lasted a few seconds though before she was unable to contain her amusement. Giggling like a small child, she sank back down under the waters of the fen.

◊◊◊

Back at Edyan’s magic cottage on the bank of the fen, I asked Domoki for his impression of Svevenka.

“Umm… well… it was hard to focus, she was all naked, and…” he stammered.

I laughed.

“So you’re attracted to women too then, I take it.”

“Well… um… mostly just curiosity, really, I had never seen a naked woman before, but… yes, I suppose. Anyway, I’m fairly certain she was telling us the truth, although her sense of humour was… unusual, to say the least.”

“Full moon is in ten days,” said Edyan, striding in to the cabin with an open book in hand. “Don’t see the need to stay here until then, we can probably come back the night before.”

Edyan took most of the group back to Absalom, but for my own part, I teleported back to Sandpoint. It was home, and I missed Ameiko and didn’t want to completely disappear from her life. Domoki came along with me. I helped Ameiko around the inn and blew glass and Domoki practiced his archery as we waited for the moon to wax. Ameiko was too kind to say anything about our sleeping arrangements, but I noticed that having two men sharing a room in her inn was not good for business. I resolved not to put her in that situation again if I could avoid it. On the day before full moon, forsaking breakfast, Domoki and I teleported to Absalom to meet up with the others so we could all teleport to Mhar-Massif together. It was not the sort of place I wanted to show up to alone.

We all joined hands and Edyan spoke the words of the teleportation spell. I pictured the Fen of the Icemists in my head and waited for the world around me to drop away. It did not. Frustrated, Edyan repeated the words and closed his eyes. Still nothing. A third time he tried, and this time the world fell away and we found ourselves perched on a cliff perhaps ten miles from the Fen of the Icemists. Missing one’s target did happen sometimes, especially if the area one was going to was not particularly familiar, so I made nothing of it and simply took wing to close the rest of the distance. Edyan looked embarrased nonetheless and started making excuses.

“The Fen seems to be shielded from teleportation. It was blocking me out. Must’ve been that irritating nymph Svevenka.”

When we arrived back at the Icemists, Svevenka crawled out of the water in the form of an otter to greet us once again.

“You’re back!” she said. “Just in time! The path should appear tomorrow night!”

The otter darted back into the water and moments later a peacock appeared in the air above us.

I turned into a gold dragon. She landed and turned into a grizzly bear. Steranis turned into an otter. Finally Svevenka returned to her humanoid form, giggling voraciously.

“Because you are so much fun,” she said. “I will grant you a wish before you enter Xin Shalast. Whatever your heart desires!”

I leaned over and whispered into Domoki’s ear.

“I already have what my heart desires.”

He blushed bright orange.

“Me too,” he said. “Besides, given her sense of humour, I don’t think I’d want to know what kind of meddling she’d do with my wish.”

“I could go for a hot meal,” said Ulrick.

“I can do that,” said Svevenka. “It will be the most delicious meal you have ever eaten. But you won’t be able to enter Xin Shalast then. You’re supposed to be fasting, remember?”

“Bummer,” said Ulrick.

In the end, it seemed that none of us were quite trusting enough of her to ask for a wish, so she shrugged and dove back into the water.

She poked her head out of the water one more time.

“Oh, do you have any of those star necklaces?” she asked.

Steranis pulled a couple of pendants out of the top of his pack.

“These?” he asked. The medallions he held up bore the Sihedron Rune, the seven pointed star.

“Yeah, those. Only got two? You’ll all need them to get into the Pinnacle of Avarice,” and with that, she disappeared under the surface once more and swam away.

“What’s the Pinnacle of Avarice?” I asked, to nobody in particular.

“I don’t know, but it sound like we’re going there,” said Steranis. “We can probably lift more of these off of Karzoug’s minions once we get into the city.”

“Where’d you get those two?” I asked.

“Lifted them off of the Lamia sisters,” he answered, tucking them back into his pack.

Edyan put up his magic cottage. It was smaller and plainer than usual. He must have been drained from the failed teleportation attempts.

“Thank you,” said Steranis.

“Hmph,” said Edyan, his pride still bruised.

I built a fire. As I was sitting by it, Asclepius sat down next to me and felt the need to remind me of something.

“Are you aware,” she asked. “That fasting is generally understood to include abstinence from all of the pleasures of the flesh, not just food?”

“Yes, Pigeon, I am well aware,” I assured her.

“Good,” she said, getting up to leave. “I would hate for anyone to be unable to enter Xin Shalast.”

Domoki was next to join me by the fire, and he pulled out his teapot and placed it on the coals.

“Domoki,” I reminded him. “We’re fasting. Put it away.”

“Oh come on” he said. “Tea is basically just water. Surely it doesn’t count.”

“Can we just not take any chances?” I asked. “I would hate for you to be unable to enter Xin Shalast and end up wandering this mountain alone until the rest of us return.”

Domoki sighed.

“No food. No tea. What’s next?” he asked, rhetorically.

“No sex,” I answered.

“Are you kidding me?”

“No. Pigeon apparently felt the need to point that out to me. I guess it’s you she should have been telling.”

“Well how was I supposed to know?”

“You’re a monk, Domoki,” I said. “Surely you know the rules of fasting.”

“Nobody at the monastery was having any sex in the first place,” he argued. “If that was a rule, it didn’t really affect us.”

“How many monks were at that monastery?” I asked, absentmindedly.

“About fifty,” he answered.

“Then I’m certain at least some of them were having sex. You put fifty men together in one place for long enough and it doesn’t matter how many of them consider themselves straight.”

“How would you know that?”

“I went to prison, Domoki, remember?”

“Oh,” he said, slowly. “Nobody tried to… hurt you… did they?”

“I was a child, Domoki. If anyone had tried, the other prisoners would have torn him to shreds. They were criminals, sure, but they had a code. Nobody tried anything with me, but I… saw things.”

“Good,” he said. “So if I understand what you’re saying… you’re telling me that some of the brothers at the monastery were having sex right under my nose and I didn’t even know it was going on? That sounds… entirely possible,” he finished, the realization finally dawning upon him.

I couldn’t help but laugh.

◊◊◊

We slept in the next morning, since we knew we would be following the road to Xin Shalast by moonlight, and besides, there was no promise of breakfast to lure us out of bed. We got up around noon and I saw that a war cat had joined Steranis overnight, which saddened me a little given the usual life expectancy of Steranis’ pets. We spent the day sitting by the fire and oiling our weapons and watching the sun slowly wander across the sky. When it has set, and the sky slowly darkened, the full moon rose, and in its dull glow we flew over the Fen of the Icemists (the war cat went around), looking for the road to Xin Shalast. Soon we found it, a faintly glowing ghostly green river flowing down from the summit and into the fen. We followed it, flying low to keep in well in view. As the air got thinner, Edyan surrounded us all with shells of breathable air, which not only kept us breathing, but also, as a bonus, were a comfortable temperature. My wings stopped shivering and my flight levelled out.

Partway up the mountain some cloud giants got in our way and tried to stop us from going on. This did not end well for them.

We flew through the night, and just as the sun was rising on a new day, we reached the last rise and looked down upon the City of Gold. It was the most magnificent thing I had seen in my life. The city was in ruins and half buried by lava flows from a volcanic eruption some time ago, and yet the uncovered portion of it was still so vast as to defy the imagination. The whole city shimmered and sparkled in every hue of the rainbow, gold and semiprecious gems adorning rooftops and the gold causeway cutting through it and reflecting the light of the rising sun directly into our eyes. The road was not made of solid gold, of course, but of bricks of basalt coated in gold leaf. In many places the leaf had worn away to reveal the stone below. Other sections were buried lava flows, long since cooled and solidified. Still, the amount of wealth here was staggering, though it would have taken lifetimes to harvest it all.

A few figures moved about here and there in the city, giants of various sizes, though it was easy to forget that they were giants given the scale of the city they inhabited.

Were we not already rich after finding and liquidated two dragons’ hoards, I would probably have wanted to spend the time gathering some of the city’s riches, but as it was, our mission called. Carved into the very peak of the mountain was a massive stone face of Karzoug. Just below it, a single white marble spire jutted into the sky.

“I think _that’s_ the Pinnacle of Avarice,” said Steranis. “Karzoug will be in there.”


	31. City of Gold

A few ruined buildings lay outside of the city wall. We approached the city and ducked into one of them to discuss our plan. The building was sized for giants, and even Steranis, who was currently twenty feet tall in the form of a rock troll, fit comfortably inside.

“This city is full of giants and we have to pass through it to get to Karzoug,” I began. “If possible, I’d like to do it without having to kill every giant here. That would just take too long. If I go ahead and do some scouting, maybe try to make some friends, I might be able to find out where we can get some more of those Sihedron medallions.”

“Take this one with you, you might need it,” offered Steranis, holding out one of his two star-shaped pendants. I took it and looped it over my head.

“You are not going alone,” said Domoki.

“Alright, you coming with me then? Just don’t say anything,” I teased.

“I won’t,” he assured me. “I never do when we’re trying to make friends. I know I don’t make a good first impression. I never know the right things to say.”

“You know what, you’re right. You’re very good at knowing when to keep your mouth shut, I don’t know why I teased you about that. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” he said. “But I would feel better if Pigeon came too. Just in case someone gets hurt. You won’t even know she’s there.”

“Well, of course I won’t know she’s there, she’s invisible,” I pointed out. “Which, come to mention it, is not a bad idea.”

With a touch, I turned myself and Domoki invisible and we set off to explore the city unseen. Steranis and Tenebis were wearing too much armour, and they _clanked_, and I didn’t trust Ulrick to stay quiet, so we left them behind. Edyan didn’t state a preference, but looked perfectly happy curled up in a corner with his spellbook and made no move to join us.

The main path went through a fortress which guarded the city and appeared in fairly good repair. There was a side road, however, that went around the fortress, and while I was sure the giants had eyes on it, I hoped our invisibility would defeat this measure. With Asclepius and I flying over the side road and Domoki walking it (he still preferred walking over flight when he had the choice) we snuck around the side to the fortress as quietly as ever we could. Everything was going swimmingly until suddenly my mouth opened and I heard myself shouting.

“Intruders! Sound the alarm!” cried my own voice, as loud as it could.

I hadn’t the faintest notion where that came from, as my brain had _definitely _not sent that instruction. But before I had time to speculate about it too much, a herd of giant bison-like creatures which Edyan later informed me were mountain aurochs thundered around the corner toward us. Asclepius and I were safe in the air above but Domoki was walking and his magic carpet was rolled up in his pack. Just as I swooped down to grab him, only guessing at where he was since we were both invisible, there was a flurry of rocks and dirt off to my right. The aurochs arrived seconds later and I watched from the air as they trampled over the spot that Domoki had been only moments before.

The aurochs stampeded past. Then, for several agonising seconds, there was stillness. Then the ground moved again, and I heard his voice.

“Nice going, flame!” it said, dripping with sarcasm.

“I’m so sorry, Domoki, I don’t know what happened. I… I lost control of my body for a moment there. I didn’t mean to cry out like that. It must have been some sort of magic. Are you badly hurt?”

“I burrowed beneath the surface as soon as I saw them coming. I am mostly alright. The ground spread out the impact of their hooves and took most of the weight.”

I was about to apologize again when there was a searing pain in my leg. I looked down to see an arrow passing straight through it, angled sharply upwards as if coming from above.

“Shit,” I said. “Archers on the castle wall!”

The archers, once they’d lost the element of surprise, were not very good, and we were able to knock them out without killing them (mostly). We got a closer look at them when we flew to the top of the wall.

I tied one to a chair, shed my invisibility, and had Pigeon wake him up. Since we’d started off on the wrong foot with these individuals, I figured I wasn’t getting any information out of them without a little mind control magic. I looked him in the eyes and muttered the words. He fought me as I pushed into his mind, and I slowed tried to worm my way around his defenses. To my surprise, he resisted for a good minute before I gave up. I punched him once, knocking him back out before moving on to a different one who hopefully was not so strong of will. The second guard yielded easily to my probe and I planted one simple thought in his mind before withdrawing: _I am your friend_.

“Hey, man,” I said out loud, with a sense of familiarity evident in my tone. “Why’d you shoot me?”

“S… s… sorry man,” he stumbled, “you… you’re not a giant. Only supposed to let giants in.”

“Aw, that’s alright, buddy, I understand,” I reassured him. “I’ll go back the way I came, but we should catch up first!”

“Yeah, yeah… ok,” said the confused guard.

“So how long have you been here, friend?” I asked.

The guard looked down at his hands, counting on his fingers for a while before answering.

“23 years, man.”

He looked to be about that age, so I took that to mean all of his life. This particular guard didn’t seem especially bright, and I got an idea.

“Cool, cool. Is it just me, or have there been more giants coming through here recently?”

“Naw, I don’t think so, man, it’s been pretty steady.”

“How long ago was it the giants started coming through, again?”

“Aw, it’s got to be at least three years now, man. That’s a lot of giants when you think about it.”

“Yeah, it is. What do you think he needs them all for?” I prodded.

“I don’t know, man. I don’t ask too many questions. It’s _dangerous,_” he whispered.

“Smart move, man, smart move. Oh, hey,” I continued, pulling the Sihedron medallion out of my shirt. “You seen any of these? Any of the giants coming through here have them?”

“Naw, man, I ain’t seen none,” he said.

“Alright, friend, it was good to catch up. I gotta be going now. I was just thinking, though: what _is_ a giant, really? Like, you’re only allowed to let giants through, right? But what _is _a giant?”

“What? I don’t know what you’re talking about, man. A giant’s a giant.”

“Yeah, but like, is a rock troll a giant?”

As my new friend contemplated this question, a profound sense of worry passed over his face.

“Oh, shit, I don’t know, man. Like, on the one hand, it’s big, like a giant. But on the other hand, it doesn’t have ‘giant’ in the name. It’s a troll. But is a troll a kind of giant?”

He seemed terrified to get the answer wrong, and I got the sense I could talk him into whatever answer I desired so he wouldn’t have to make the decision himself.

“I mean, _I_ think a rock troll is a giant. You gotta understand the geneology. Trolls and hill giants and stone giants and cloud giants all come from a common ancestor. And if I put a giant bane enchantment on my bow, it works against trolls too.”

The guard was nodding along.

“Yeah. Yeah, man, that makes sense. I… I hope I’m right. I don’t wanna get in trouble.”

“Don’t worry about it, man,” I said. “You got this.”

I untied him and we flew back off to the rest of the group.

◊◊◊

Steranis (in rock troll form), Tenebis, Edyan and Ulrick were still right where we left them. Steranis’ war cat was gone.

“Where’d the cat go?” I asked.

“She got excited by the mountain auroch stampede,” answered Steranis. “Chased after them. Probably the best hunting she’s had in years. She’ll join us later when she’s eaten.”

I shrugged.

“Alright, well, I’ve got us a way in,” I said. “Everybody get into Steranis’ backpack.”

There was a good deal of grumbling as the rest of the party climbed into the oversized backpack and Steranis (still twenty feet tall) hoisted it onto his shoulders. I gagged myself in order to avoid a repeat of the unfortunate incident that had happened on our way in the first time. Fortunately, nobody felt the need to mention anything about the fact that I kept a ball gag in my pack.

No alarm was sounded as Steranis strolled casually through the front gate. When we were through the fortress and out of sight of the sentries, Steranis unslung his pack from his shoulders and we all climbed out. The golden road that ran through the city stretched out before us in all its splendour, seventy-five feet wide and at least five or ten miles long. We did not tread on the golden road, but flew above it, keeping our eyes peeled for giants.

About a mile up the road, having still not encountered a single giant, Steranis quietly landed and motioned for us to do the same.

“There’s something moving in that building,” he whispered, gesturing to a large building on the far side of the road, “I can hear it.”

I listened carefully. I could not hear a thing, but nonetheless we flew up over top of the building to take a peak. Fortunately, there were several gaping holes in the roof, and after turning myself invisible once more, I flew inside. There were still no giants in sight, but there was a creature about my size hiding in some rubble. He was the same colour as the broken beams and planks he hid amongst, and had I not looked right at him I would have missed him, but there he was, sure enough.

“Psst, over here!” I called out, still invisible. I wanted to gauge his reaction to knowing he was spotted and find out whether he was dangerous before I shed my invisibility.

The creature looked about frantically for the source of the sound and scuttled deeper into his hiding place. Satisfied that he was not a threat, I dismissed the invisibility and allowed him to see me. He seemed at least a little reassured at my appearance.

“Look here,” I whispered, “I’m not a giant. You’re not a giant. Clearly neither of us are supposed to be here. Maybe we can help each other.”

The timid creature slowly crept out of his hiding place to get a better look at me. What he saw, of course, was a man half covered in shimmering scales lazily hovering in the air on slowly beating dragon’s wings. He stared. I was used to that.

“Have you seen any of these?” I asked, pulling out the Sihedron medallion from under my shirt.

He nodded.

“Are you the chosen one?” he breathed. I was not used to that. Not one to let a good opportunity go to waste, I answered:

“Presumably, yes,” I said. “My name is Urhador.”

“Of course, of course, I forget my manners,” answered the creature. “I am Morgiv. There are – more of you, yes? The prophecy foretold a group.”

I waved down the others from the roof.

“I must warn you though,” I said to Morgiv, before my allies descended. “Some of my allies are – larger in size. They are not giants, and they mean you no harm.”

The others flew down into the building. Tenebis, though large, looked decidedly angelic, but Morgiv flinched when he saw Steranis. Nonetheless, he stayed quiet about the Rock Troll and surveyed the whole group before he spoke again.

“Yes, yes. You _must_ be the chosen ones. I must take you to our leader.”

“Lead on,” I said.

Morgiv shuffled his feet a little and looked hesitant.

“It is just… those two won’t _fit _through the tunnels,” he mumbled apologetically, indicating Tenebis and Steranis. Tenebis shrank back down to normal size and Steranis sighed loudly and did the same.

“Meet me on the golden road outside,” he said, and with that he slipped through a narrow crack in the floor and began to climb his way down to ground level. The rest of us flew back up through the hole in the roof and out towards the road.

Just as we reached the road, however, Domoki raised a hand for silence.

“Someone’s coming,” whispered Steranis. “Someone big.”

I ducked back behind the building. I had no desire to deal with any giants right now if I didn’t have to, and would be perfectly happy if they just marched on by without noticing us. The others seemed to agree with my position and similarly took cover. I hoped Morgiv would have the sense to stay hidden as well until we had dealt with these giants one way or another.

A minute or two later, they came around the corner into view: one Frost Giant, one Stone Giant, and one Hill Giant. They stopped not twenty feet away from me.

“I swear, they were just here,” said the Stone Giant, looking around. Then Steranis’ armour clanked. The Frost Giant pointed right at us.

“We have a message!” bellowed the Frost Giant. “I know you’re there! Please come out and hear it so that I can take your answer back to our leader!”

Since hiding was no longer an option, I figured our remaining options were listening or killing; I saw no reason not to start with listening. I flew out from my hiding spot and took position in front of and above their heads, just out of their reach.

“What is your message?”

“Our leader has noticed your presence in this city. He wishes to speak with you. He has a request to make of you.”

“Ah, well,” I said, “We are generally willing to entertain requests. But we’re a little busy at the moment. Perhaps we can set up a meeting later today. Three hours from now, at a place of your choosing?”

“Very well,” said the Frost Giant, sounding not particularly pleased at the delay, “our camp is down the road and to the left. You can’t miss it.”

The giants turned and thumped away back down the road, and I turned to Domoki.

“So?” I asked. “Are they setting up an ambush for us now, or do they really want to talk?”

“If they are setting up an ambush,” answered Domoki, “the messengers you were speaking with do not know it yet. They made their request in good faith. As for their leader, we will not know his motives until we meet him.”

“Thank you, my gem,” I said, then raised my voice a little to call out to Morgiv. “You can come out now!”

Morgiv slithered out through a hole in the wall.

“Do not trust those giants,” he warned.

“The thought of trusting them did not even enter my mind,” I assured him. “But I didn’t want to cause a scene out in the open here. Now we know where they live.”

“The chosen one is wise,” said Morgiv. “My people are this way.”

With that, he looked both ways to ensure nobody else was watching and darted across the golden road as fast as he possibly could. We followed after him, flying at first, but he quickly motioned for us to get down. We reluctantly landed and walked the rest of the way to him. He began to climb up the cooled lava flows and we followed after him on foot. Soon I noticed his skin colour had changed from the dull brown it had been inside the building to an ashy gray that blended almost perfectly into the cooled magma. It seemed Morgiv’s race possessed natural camouflage.

Morgiv led us across the lava flows for over an hour and I was beginning to worry whether we’d make our rendez-vous with the giants when finally we came to the entrance of a natural cavern. Morgiv stopped outside.

“Before we enter, I must give you a history of my people,” he said.

I pulled out my pocket watch.

“Can we get the condensed version?” I asked. “We’ve got a meeting to make with some untrustworthy giants after this.”

“Of course,” he said, and he began his story. “In the time of the great city, my people were slaves to the giants. It was at the fall of the great city, when the mountain erupted and death flooded down from its peak and swallowed everything, that a powerful woman named Mesmina led us to freedom. When the fiery rock cooled and solidified, she found our new home for us in the freshly formed caverns and we have lived underground ever since. Mesmina became our leader and taught us the ways of Lissala, the Sihedron Scion, Goddess of Runes, fate, and reward of service. That,” he pointed at the Sihedron medallion around my neck, “is Lissala’s holy symbol. When I saw it, I knew you must be the chosen ones. Mesmina was a seer, and she predicted that one day the spared would be enslaved again and that we would toil under our new ruler until a group of strangers arrived to free us. This was many generations ago.”

“And let me guess,” I interrupted, “the Giants have enslaved your people once again.”

“Yes and no,” he answered. “My people have been enslaved again, but not by the Giants. The… _thing _that has enslaved us is… well, it’s not humanoid. The hidden beast is… well, it’s a big tentacle-y thing and it’s got my people under some sort of spell. That is what waits for you inside.”

“Sounds like a decapus,” said Tenebis.

“So, when you said you were going to take us to your leader, you didn’t mean to talk…” I clarified.

“No,” said Morgiv. “It must be killed or at least driven off. The prophecy foretells it.”

“Well, that sounds like exactly our sort of thing,” I reflected. I turned to my allies. “Shall we?”

◊◊◊

The decapus attacked us as soon as we entered the cavern it called home. With all thoughts of diplomacy discarded, we attacked it wholeheartedly. It put up a respectable fight, but it was not long before it exploded into multiple pieces. It was what happened _after_ it exploded that was more concerning. From the bloody mess that had been the decapus rose four humanoid creatures, alike in stature and build to Morgiv. Their colour was impossible to tell since they were covered in blood. They attacked us in turn with claws and pointed fangs and we were forced to slay them as well. I looked back down the tunnel to where Morgiv stood and saw that he was crying.

“I’m sorry,” I said, “about your people.”

“It had to be done,” he said through his tears.

I nodded. Turning back to my allies, I saw Asclepius standing by the head of the slain decapus and inspecting it.

“It’s vampiric,” she said. “If we don’t find its sarcophagus and destroy it, it will respawn and go right back to coverting these skulks into more vampires.”

And with that we fanned out and began to search for the decapus vampire’s sarcophagus. Domoki soon drew my attention to a network of hairline fissures in the floor in the back end of the cave. I sent a scrying sensor through them to see if there was anything on the other side, and sure enough, about 30 feet down I found another chamber. There was no entrance or exit to this chamber other than the fissures down which I had sent my eye, so I assumed the decapus must have gotten in and out of this chamber either by teleporting or by assuming its gaseous form. In any case, once the chamber had been pointed out to the others, Steranis worked some magic on the rock and the fissures widened to a small tunnel wide enough to see and cast a spell through. A _disintegrate_ spell followed and the stone enclosure that had been the creature’s sarcophagus crumbled to dust.

I spent some time cleaning up the cave of blood and tentacle bits. Among the carnage I found a magic ring bearing the Sihedron rune. I tossed it to Edyan.

“You think it might work like the Medallions?” I asked. “Grant us entry to the spire?”

“Better, I think,” he answered.

“It is yours, if you want it,” said Morgiv. “You have given my people back their freedom.”

“Thank you, Morgiv,” I said. “We must get going if we’re going to make that meeting with the untrustworthy giants. If you don’t mind, we’ll come back here afterwards. There are some things we’d like to know that you might be able to help us with.”

“You are welcome anytime,” he said, “chosen ones.”

◊◊◊

We were running short on time, so Edyan teleported us back to the road where the Giant messengers had met us and we followed the directions from there. As we approached the encampment, some guards came out to meet us and led us to a large central tent.

Their leader was an ogre mage. His face brought back memories of Fort Rannick but I tried my best to keep my distaste for his appearance from showing. The ogre was surrounded by a number of stone giants – advisors, or body guards, perhaps, I could not tell.

“Greetings,” said the Ogre. “I am Gyukak. Thank you for coming. Please, make yourselves at home.”

I looked around to see a number of cushions of various sizes scattered about the floor. I sat down on one and waited for him to speak again. When we had settled, he continued.

“I have asked you here today because I believe we can help each other. Not all of us in this city serve the Dark Lord. In fact, a number of us are quite interested in leaving. We understand there is some space on the Storval Plateau, previously occupied by Giants, that has recently become available. I’d like to take my people off of this mountain and settle there.”

I wondered, when he spoke of land that had ‘recently become available’ whether he was referring to our recent assassination of Mokmurian and the subsequent scattering of his tribe, or whether something else had happened to the remaining Giants that I did not know about.

“And how did this land come to be available?” I asked.

“I believe that had something to do with you,” he answered.

“Ah,” I said. “You have been watching us.”

“Not you specifically, but I’ve been keeping an eye on things. You lot hardly keep a low profile.”

“And how is it that you came by this information?”

“Divination,” he answered, simply.

I nodded in approval.

“Much more reliable than spies, isn’t it?” I asked, rhetorically.

“In any case,” I continued. “Your messengers informed us that you had a request for us. Perhaps you might get to the part where you tell us what that request is.”

“Very well,” agreed Gyukak. “In order for my people to leave this city, we will need the Dark Lord and his generals’ attention to be drawn elsewhere.”

“You need a diversion,” I clarified.

“Yes.”

“What’s in it for us?” I asked bluntly.

“Let me answer your question with another question,” he replied. “Why are _you_ here?”

“One such as yourself, schooled in the art of divination, surely could not be unaware of our purpose here,” I said, stroking his ego a little bit but also refusing to divulge anything on the off chance that he might not know already.

“Very well. It was a rhetorical question. You are here to end the Dark Lord. And yet, among the seven of you, you have only three Sihedron tokens” he said, nodding in turn at the two Sihedron medallions that we bore and then at the ring we had just lifted from the decapus. “You see, there is an occlusion field around the Pinnacle of Avarice where the Dark Lord dwells – an area of magic more powerful than anything I have seen before. The ring that you have will get you in, and those amulets… _should_ work as well – the field has weakened somewhat in recent days. Anyone who tries to enter the field without one will be rejected – pushed out, driven insane, or killed. Teleportation does not work inside the occlusion field at all, with the exception of a single portal within the spire which is well guarded.

“If you are to assassinate Karzoug, each of you will need a Sihedron token. I expect that you are already aware of this, and that you are looking for more. We can help you with this.”

Gyukak seemed rather proud of himself for noticing our Sihedron tokens, but I decided not to acknowledge that. His ego probably didn’t need any additional stroking.

“Very well,” I said. “And will our assault on the spire provide a sufficient distraction for you to get your people out?”

“It would…” he began, “but you cannot begin your assault on the spire until you have the Sihedron tokens, and I have no intention of completing my end of this deal until you have completed yours. A great servant of the master above by the name of Glorofaex, lives here in the city. He has one of the rings that you seek. An attack on him should be a sufficient diversion.”

“And what can you tell us about Glorofaex to improve our chances of defeating him?” I asked.

“He has an incredibly durable hide, and is terrifying to behold – for lesser beings, of course, I’m sure the lot of you will be fine – incredible senses, spell ability… breathes electricity… flies…”

I got the feeling at this point he was teasing us.

“He’s a blue dragon,” finished Edyan for him.

“Indeed,” confirmed Gyukak.

“And in return for us attacking this blue dragon, you will give us some more of these Sihedron rings?”

“We have one here in the camp, which I will get for you. And I can tell you the location of another, besides the one that Glorofaex wears.”

“Very well. I will need to discuss your offer with my people,” I said, gesturing at my allies.

“Of course,” he replied, and with that he cast a zone of silence around himself and his fellow giants, and they turned and began to talk amongst themselves.

“So?” I asked. “What do you think?”

“I don’t know,” began Steranis, “I am hesitant to let loose another army of giants on the Storval Plateau. We just finished dealing with the last one.”

“Yes,” I said. “But at the same time, now that we know of the dragon’s existence, and especially that he has a Sihedron ring, it’s in our interest to kill him anyway. With or without our agreement, Gyukak will take advantage of the diversion to get his people out of here. The only likely way to stop that from happening would be to kill them all, and that would both take a long time as well as thoroughly remove us from the ‘good guys’ camp.”

“He has a point,” said Tenebis. “We’re going to kill the dragon anyway, the Giants are going to leave anyway unless we stop them, we might as well get the ring and the information that they’re offering.”

“Gyukak seems like a fairly peaceable leader,” said Steranis, “but what happens when he’s out of the picture? All it takes is one upstart war monger on a lucky streak.”

“That sounds like a problem for future us,” I said. “I’m not willing to commit genocide to prevent a possible future problem that may not even come up.”

“I don’t like leaving problems for future us to solve,” argued Steranis. “Who’s to say we don’t all die in the spire?”

“I can’t guarantee that that won’t happen,” I admitted. “But if I’m to die, I’d rather do it with what’s left of my conscience intact and leave the future safety of the world in the hands of those who will come after me.”

There was a tense silence as Steranis and I stared each other down. Domoki reached over and gave my hand a squeeze in support. Edyan broke the silence with an unrelated question.

“If we’re to take them up on their offer, what assurance do we have they’ll follow up with their end of the deal? How do we know they even can? He could be making promises he can’t keep.”

“I do not believe him to be lying,” said Domoki.

“I’ll ask some further questions about that to give Domoki a little more to go on,” I offered. “I’d also like to make sure the other ring that he knows about isn’t the one you’re wearing right now. He may not know where we got this one from or that the decapus is dead. And if it is a different one, I want to know who we have to kill to get it.”

“Sounds like a plan,” agreed Edyan.

There was another short silence.

“Does anyone else have anything to say?” I asked.

“I am with you,” said Domoki.

Ulrick shrugged.

“It seems you have this well in hand,” said Asclepius.

I waved to the giants and Gyukak dismissed the zone of silence.

“We have a few more questions for you before we can accept your offer.”

“Of course,” said Gyukak.

“The first is with respect to the Sihedron rings. I understand that we will not receive the one here in camp until after we’ve attacked the Dragon’s lair. But I should like to know the whereabouts of the other one now, as a show of good faith.”

“Very well,” said Gyukak. “It is held by a devil called GamaginGamagin at the Heptaric Locus, the great arena in the North of the city. If you can kill Glorofaex, you can kill Gamagin as well. And if you can’t kill Glorofaex… well, you’re dead anyway.”

I glanced at Domoki for his signal.

“Thank you. In addition, I should like to see the one you have here at camp, with my own eye,” I said, raising my casting hand to indicate that I meant not my literal eye, but a scrying sensor, an arcane eye.

He laughed.

“I see that I am not the only one making use of divination here. Very well. But you would be well advised to wait until after dark. The individual that is currently in possession of the ring is very observant. If he is being watched, he will know it.”

With that walked to the edge of his tent, lifted a flap, and pointed out, a few tents over, a Stone Giant sitting on a stump outside of his tent with a drinking horn.

“It’s my understanding that Stone Giants are not normally hampered by darkness,” I pointed out.

“It is not the darkness that will make him less observant,” corrected Gyukak. “It is the drinking.”

“Ah,” I said, “understood.”

Gyukak let fall the tent flap and returned to his seat.

“The final thing that I must tell you before we can accept your offer,” I continued, “is that, once you are out on the Storval Plateau, if we hear that you are making a nuisance of yourselves to the humans or other small-ish humanoids about, you’ll be hearing from us again.”

Gyukak laughed again.

“Of course, of course. We will stay out of your peoples’ business. Of course, we shall have to see if you are still alive a week from now to be able to follow through on your threat.”

“That we shall,” I agreed.

And with that I shook hands with the Ogre over our agreement.

◊◊◊

After our meeting with the giants, we went back to Morgiv’s people to get some intel on what might be found in the rest of the city.

Several dozen of the chameleon skinned skulks were there, in various states of shock and recovery. They had been under mental control of the vampiric abomination for months, and suddenly having their thoughts free again was proving difficult for some. Nonetheless, Morgiv took his leave from them to provide us with the information we needed: we were his people’s saviours, after all.

He drew us a map of the city with chalk on the wall and pointed out a number of sites that could be of interest: the abominable dome, inhabited by a group of abominable snowmen; the Heptaric Locus, the arena where we would find the devil Gamagin; Vomark’s circus, just across the golden road from the Heptaric Locus, which was reportedly for events too large to be held in the arena – it had been built for the Stone Giant champion who won the first mastodon race and was subsequently impaled by his own enraged mastodon team; the spolarium, the city’s morgue and crematorium, which he advised us to stay away from on account of the burning undead – he said there was likely not to be much of value there anyway; an unassuming building, the basement of which reportedly contained the entrance to a tunnel going up to the peak of Mhar Massif; the House of Divine consumption, the focal point for the official church of Shalast, founded by the first Runelord of Greed; the Temple of the Sihedron; the dragon’s lair, where we would find Glorofaex; and fortress Shalaria, which we were well advised to avoid.

We briefly discussed our options, debating which of these places we should go to and which we should avoid. We were all in agreement that the fortress should indeed be avoided. We were generally far less intimidated by the ‘burning undead’ at the spolarium – compared to dragons and devils, which we were already committed to fighting, a few roaming undead were nothing to flinch at. As we were discussing this, evening fell, and I excused myself to return to the giants’ camp and confirm the existence of their supposed Sihedron ring.

When I approached their camp, I turned myself invisible, but even in this state, I still made noise, so I parked myself outside of the camp and cast arcane eye. The scrying sensor moved silently forward through the air, visible only as a slight wobble in the evening light, and even then only if you were looking directly at it. When it arrived outside the tent that Gyukak had pointed out earlier in the day, I found a jolly group of giants engaged in a game of cards. The giant that had been brooding outside this tent earlier had already had a few too many to drink already and didn’t look to be slowing down. I moved the arcane eye as close as I dared, and sure enough, on his finger was a ring emblazoned with the seven pointed star, giving off a strong aura of magic. One of Gyukak’s advisors who had been present at our meeting was also there, and although he was drinking as much or more than the others, and he laughed loudly and occasionally knocked something over, his movements seemed more deliberate than those of a drunkard – he was faking it.

The evening went on and I repeatedly sent in scrying sensors to check up on the giants’ game of cards. Every once in a while they would fizzle out and I’d need to send a new one in, but despite the occasional interruption in my surveillance I got a good feel for how things were going. Gyukak’s man was steadily winning, and the pile of coins in front of him grew steadily larger as the moon rose higher in the sky. Around midnight, the giant with the Sihedron ring ran out of coin. This was the moment Gyukak’s man had been waiting for. On the next hand, he shoved his entire pile of coin into the centre of the table.

“Double or nothing” he said, staring directly into the eyes of the other giant. The other giant shrugged.

“I got nothin’ left” he slurred.

“That’s a nice ring,” said Gyukak’s man.

I saw the decision play out across the face of the drunken giant. Even in his inebriated state, he was very well aware of the worth of the ring he bore. Karzoug would surely kill him if he lost it. But the pile of coins that had been shoved into the centre of the table was enormous, and he kept looking back and forth between it and his hand. In the end, his overconfidence got the better of him and he slowly slipped the sihedron ring off of his finger and placed it gingerly atop the pile – at least, he meant to place it gingerly; in practice, his coordination was somewhat impaired and his placement of the ring atop the pile of coins sent several of them skittering to the bottom and nearly falling off the table.

The hands were revealed, and Gyukak’s man gathered up his winnings and walked away with the Sihedron ring.

◊◊◊

When I arrived back at Morgiv’s cave, all was quiet. The skulks were asleep, and Edyan had set up his magic cottage inside. I let myself in as quietly as I could and crept over to the spot by the fire where Domoki and I slept. He was asleep on the floor, his left arm flung wide, leaving my usual spot by his side wide open for me to slide into. I lay down where I belonged, my head on his chest, my left arm and leg draped over him, moving as gently as possible so as not to wake him. He stirred, and I felt his hand drag its way across my back to rest on my waist.

“What news, my flame?” he whispered.

“They have the Sihedron ring,” I whispered back. “Sorry I woke you.”

“I wasn’t asleep,” he replied. “I needed to know you had gotten back safe. You should not have gone alone.”

“Domoki, you worry too much,” I assured him. “The giants didn’t even know I was there.”

“I can’t help but worry about you, my dragon,” he whispered. “It comes with being in love.”

◊◊◊

In the morning, we gathered around Morgiv’s chalk map on the cave wall and decided where to go. I wasn’t feeling the sharpest after my late night spying on giants, so I suggested the one place I knew I wouldn’t have to deal with anything intelligent: the spolarium. Morgiv had warned us to stay away on account of the burning undead, saying that even the giants feared to tread there. When it came down to it, it sounded like there were a lot of them, but that most likely none of them were individually very smart or tough. If they were already on fire, my favourite trick wouldn’t work, but I could switch to frost instead if I needed to.

Nobody else seemed to have a strong opinion on the matter, so it was off to the spolarium that we flew.

The above ground structure had collapsed, but there was a sizeable hole in the rubble that exposed a pitch black hole. The light seemed to cut off suddenly at the entrance to the hole, blanketing whatever was inside in a powerful, oppressive darkness. Edyan cast a spell which dispelled the darkness at least a little, and while it was still quite dark, I was able to make out the shapes of a horde of undead slowly milling about in the underground structure below. Steranis jumped in, crushing a number of the zombies underfoot and began to hack at them with his polearm. Tenebis followed. Domoki began to shoot arrows from outside. The zombies were falling, but as each one fell, more arrived to take their place. There were hundreds of them, perhaps thousands. Killing them one at a time was going to be time consuming.

I flew in after them, staying close to the ceiling and spraying down wide swaths of fire. The zombies fell to my magic, the breadth of the tongues of flame catching dozens at a time. Edyan and Ulrick followed my lead, throwing fire in and watching it spread from one zombie to the next. Domoki stopped shooting. “_This_ is how you slaughter hordes of undead!” I called up to him.

Just when I thought we had the situation under control, a bright light caught my eye descending from the hole in the ceiling. I turned to see Asclepius gliding gracefully towards the floor, wielding her holy symbol before her like a weapon. It shone with a piercing light, and before her feet had touched the ground, every remaining zombie within sight had simply fallen down dead.

“No,” said Asclepius, when the last zombie had hit the floor and she touched down. “_That_ is how you slaughter hordes of undead.”

“Show off,” I complained. I rather thought that channelling the power of the Gods shouldn’t really count, but then again this was not _supposed_ to be a competition in the first place. I supposed I had rather been asking for it.

The undead taken care of, either way, we moved on deeper into the underground structure, Edyan casting his light ahead of us. We could not see far, but we could make out what was immediately in front of us, and that would have to do for now. Past the remains of the undead horde, we came to a vast chamber, too wide to see to the other side. Making our way around the perimeter, we discovered a number of ethereal creatures (perhaps men at one time, though it seemed their humanity had been thoroughly stripped from them) chained to the walls with glowing green chains, their mouths open in silent screams of agony. Six of them, we counted.

“These are the souls of innocents,” said Edyan. “They are trapped here, and they are suffering.”

Tenebis stepped forward with his sword and swung at the chain anchoring the spirit to the wall. The sword passed right through, but the chain flickered, as if weakened. A creature appeared behind us, as if summoned by the disturbance. It was a wight of some sort, I thought, and it charged Tenebis, presumably for having the audacity to try to free its prisoners. As Tenebis switched his focus from the glowing chain to the wight, I saw that every hit that landed seemed, rather than hurting the wight, to elicit a new level of pain in the imprisoned soul shackled to the wall.

“The wight is transferring its damage to the tortured souls!” explained Asclepius. “If we don’t free them, they will all die before the wight itself can be hurt.”

Frantically, we spread out around the room to attempt to free the prisoners. One by one, we broke their chains and the faintly glowing ethereal creatures seemed to find a moment of relief from their agony before fading away into nothingness. Tenebis was trying to fend off the wight, slowly retreating, not daring to hit back for fear of killing an innocent. Every time it touched him, it seemed to drain a little more of the strength from him, sucking the life out of him bit by bit. But still he did not hit back. He tried teleporting away to the other side of the room, hoping it would switch its focus to someone else and give him a brief respite in which to recover, but the wight did not fall for that trick. It knew he was on his last legs, and it pursued him doggedly until he fell. The last chain securing the last prisoner shattered, seconds too late. Tenebis was on the ground, shrunk back to his normal human size, and no longer glowing. Then he stirred.

He stood.

He raised his sword.

He charged right past the wight that had knocked him down and swung at Asclepius.

In the darkness I could not see his lifeless eyes or the colour of his skin. But I knew this was not Tenebis. He had died and risen again as a wight, under the control of the one who slayed him. The tortured souls finally free, we could now hurt the wight, except now there were two of them.

Edyan teleported Asclepius away from Tenebis before he killed her, and the rest of us piled on and killed the original wight. As soon as it fell, Tenebis did too.

I noticed Asclepius talking to Steranis, then Steranis picked up Tenebis’ corpse and we departed. When we got it back into the light, we could finally see the extent of the damage. His eyes were jet black and featureless, his skin a dull, uniform grey. He had grown fangs and claws. Asclepius’ own words, that she had yelled at Tenebis back at Runeforge, repeated themselves in my head. _If you’re undead, I can’t fix you._

For some reason, I asked anyway.

“Can you fix him?”

“I can do nothing,” she answered. “Only the Gods can bring him back.”

And yet, when we got back to Morgiv’s cave where we had camped, I saw her begin to prepare the ritual that she used to call back the dead. The candles were lit and arranged. The diamond dust was offered and the now familiar ritual prayer began to repeat itself. The ritual was the same as it always was, at least on the surface, but her voice broke up here and there and I noticed a single tear slide down her cheek. I was pretty sure she didn’t think this was going to work, and yet she was going through the motions, because it was all she had left.

It began slowly. But as I watched from a respectful distance, a change came over Tenebis. His skin lost its grey shade and the pink crept back into it. The fangs recessed back into his mouth and claws shrunk back. Finally his eyes fluttered open. Asclepius didn’t notice at first. Her eyes were closed in prayer and she continued her incantations. Then Tenebis spoke.

“What happened?”

Asclepius opened her eyes and a look of surprise and delight spread over her face. She took his hand in hers and clung to it. The answer to Tenebis’ question came from behind me.

“You turned into a wight,” said Ulrick, “tried to kill her.”

“Oh, shit, did I do that?” asked Tenebis, horrified.

“You were not yourself,” assured Pigeon. “I won’t hold it against you… probably.”

◊◊◊

The next day, we headed to the Heptaric Locus to fight the devil Gamagin. After casting a number of protective spells to guard as again ice and electricity in the fights to come, we teleported to directly about the arena. There were a couple of minor demons fighting in the arena when we arrived. Gamagin watched the fight from the royal box, and the stands were filled with other denizens of the city. Lamia, giants, and other hell-beasts that I didn’t pay much notice to.

We waited until the fight was over so we would have the crowd’s full attention. Then we swooped down into the centre of the arena and I addressed the crowd.

“That wasn’t a fight!” I declared. “You want entertainment?!?” I continued, rallying up the crowd. “Gamagin!” I yelled, turning to the devil presiding over the arena, “Get your ass down here!”

Gamagin needed no further goading. He unfolded a pair of icy wings and charged toward us. He was dead within seconds. The crowd went wild with fright. A stampede toward the exit ensued, but we had no intention of pursuing any of them. Edyan took the ring off of Gamagin and we teleported directly to the dragon’s lair. Our diversion had already begun, and Glorofaex was next.

Glorofaex was in his lair watching the arena fight we had just come from through a magical orb of scrying that floated in front of him. We attacked, and soon discovered that the image of the dragon we were attacking was itself only an illusion and the real Glorofaex was invisible elsewhere in the cave. Once we tracked him down, he didn’t last long. We took all his stuff.

From there it was back to intercept Gyukak on his way out of the city and demand the last of the Sihedron rings as payment for our diversion. He handed it over without complaint, and, the way forward now clear, we headed up the mountain toward the white spire.


	32. The Pinnacle of Avarice

We followed the golden road up the mountain for about four hours. We tried teleporting straight to the end first, of course, but it was magically blocked, and that was no surprise. Straying too far from the road or too high above it, we encountered bitter cold and wind too strong to fly in, so we reluctantly accepted being funnelled down the path for all of his minions to intercept us. Edyan informed us that these minions were denizens of Leng, a distant demiplane in the Great Beyond. I didn’t really care what they were. They were in between us and our target, and they wouldn’t let us through, and so they died. Some of them had Sihedron rings, which we took and used, since the rings seemed more effective than the pendants at protecting us from the occlusion field around the spire (those of us using the pendants were tiring very quickly).

As the Pinnacle of Avarice grew closer, we made out details in the white marble spire and its surroundings. It did not stand alone on the mountain, as it had previously appeared, but was surrounded by a number of smaller spires and pyramids. Nothing came out of these lesser buildings to attack us, so we passed them by and headed straight for the central spire. The spire was constructed of giant blocks of white marble each the size of a house. The tower itself stood impossibly tall, over two thousand feet, such that it seemed impossible for the narrow base to hold the tower’s own weight. And yet it stood, jutting into the sky like a needle. I wasn’t sure if it was a marvel of engineering or of magic, but either way I could not deny the awe that the structure inspired within me. The surface of the spire was almost flawlessly smooth, with only fine lines where the blocks of stone stacked perfectly together. The one exception was a large hole in the wall near the top of the tower, about twenty feet across. We briefly discussed entering the tower through the hole, but ultimately decided entering at ground level and working our way up was safer. We didn’t want to leave enemies directly underneath us and end up trapped between enemies above and enemies below.

The ground floor of the spire was mostly full of giants – the stone giants, hill giants, and frost giants of the city below were dwarfed by the cloud giants that lived up here. Still, they were no match for us. Up from the ground spiralled a wide ramp circling the inside of the spire. The center of the structure was left open right to the top, which paled in the distance. We decided the ramp was less likely to be trapped than the empty column of space in the middle, so it was over the ramp that we flew, though we did not set foot on it. Along the walls, all the way up the spiralling ramp, were set torches every six feet made of glowing rubies and set in silver sconces. The floor itself was composed of highly polished gold and onyx set in a checkerboard pattern. Edyan seemed quite taken by the opulence of the place and began to talk of taking it over once Karzoug was defeated. I had no such ambitions. “All yours,” I offered.

Another half hour later we reached the top of the tower. The ramp ended in front of a gold plated door set with gems. It swung open easily, as if on well-oiled hinges. The door opened into a curving hallway, and across the hall flickered an image of Karzoug.

“And so the fools have found me,” he taunted. “I must applaud your tenacity. You are much more persistent than the worms I thought you to be. You are more like hungry maggots in your endless squirming and writhing to get to the death that awaits you at the core of your fate. I am that fate, maggots. I am your death!”

Tenebis stepped forward and swung at the image. Domoki loosed a flurry of arrows at it. The image collapsed, folding in on itself, but not before a flash of lightning appeared from it, scorching us all. Karzoug was watching us, and there was nothing we could do about it.

We proceeded down the hallway past several empty cells and finally to a door which was closed and guarded by another one of Karzoug’s manifestations. He lobbed his spells through it while Domoki once again collapsed the portal with a flurry of arrows. However, before the portal fully closed, we heard him speak through it once again.

“You…” it said, clearly directed at Domoki, “you will die _slowly_.”

In the next room we found half a dozen Rune Giants, cloud giant variants of the undead giant we had seen and killed at Jorgenfist, along with a wizard who snuck up on us from behind while we were dispatching the undead. There were dozens more empty cells in this large chamber, and Edyan took a few minutes inspecting one before informing us that each of the empty cells was what he called a ‘stasis chamber’ – that each one had held a Rune Giant suspended in a deep sleep until they had recently been awoken. That’s when I counted up the cells and the bodies – thirty five cells; six slain Rune Giants. That meant that another twenty nine Rune Giants were on the loose somewhere. Strangely, this was less worrisome than it could have been – I presumed that the Rune Giants, being undead and having no free will of their own, were under the direct control of Karzoug. Therefore, if we killed Karzoug, twenty nine loose Rune Giants with no orders would likely just sit around doing nothing, and if we didn’t kill Karzoug, well… the world was screwed anyway. I made a mental note to try to scry on them after Karzoug’s death to make sure they weren’t doing any harm, and we moved on.

Around the bend we came to a shrine to Karzoug, featuring an oversized golden statue of the Runelord himself, which I may have pissed on while Asclepius’ back was turned. The shrine also held an empty sarcophagus which awaited Karzoug’s death (or perhaps it was another stasis chamber intended to preserve the mage in a deep slumber).

Beyond this shrine, we came to another set of double doors, but when Tenebis attempted to push them open, he found that they were protected by a wall of force some three inches in front of them. When I squinted, I was able to see the shimmer of the force field, which extended the whole length and height of the wall into which the doors were set. Tenebis raised his sword to try to smash through it, and I quickly ducked back into Karzoug’s shrine for whatever protection it might afford from the oncoming blast. To no one’s surprise, except perhaps Tenebis’ own, hacking at the wall of force with a sword was not only completely ineffective, but also released a great blast of energy which knocked him back onto his ass. After a few more slightly less foolish but equally ineffective attempts at lowering the force field, we decided to go around to the other side to see if there wasn’t an easier way in.

Circling back the way we came, we came to a large throne room in which a human woman in full plate armour sat upon a throne protected by three rune giants. She ordered her giants to attack us on sight, and when she and the giants were defeated, we looted their bodies for anything useful. Edyan was looking over her gear when his demeanor suddenly changed. His usual scholarly indifference was replaced with a tone of adoration as he lifted her sword.

“This sword,” he muttered, “I’ve never seen anything like it…”

The sword appeared to be made of pure gold, though it must have been hardened somehow. As Edyan swung it around a few times (wielding it in both hands due to its weight) it cut cleanly through a metal post. Its hilt was wrought with intricate curving patterns and studded with precious gems. It radiated strongly of powerful magic. Edyan slid it silently back into its sheath and strapped it on to his own belt. I was unsure why he needed such a fancy sword for himself, seeing as I had never seen him use one before, but neither of the front line fighters seemed to object to his appropriation of the weapon, so we continued on without further comment.

◊◊◊

It was at the end of the next hallway that we encountered our first real problem. We rounded a corner to face another of Karzoug’s manifestations. This time he wasted no time with idle threats or taunting. His right hand flickered into and out of the image as he completed the casting of a spell, and then the noise began. The shrieking, soul-crushing wail of the banshee seemed to come from all directions at once, so loud as to block out everything but the head-splitting pain. My hands reflexively moved to cover my ears, but this provided little relief from the piercing sound. At some point, I became aware that my hands were not the only pair of hands slapped over my ears. I could not make sense of this, because Domoki was in front of me, covering his own ears. I did not have time to puzzle this out. Domoki fell. I caught him on his way down before he hit the ground. At some point the sound subsided, but the pain didn’t stop. The sharp, ear-piercing pain of the banshee’s wail was replaced by the heavy, soul crushing pain as I realized that Domoki was not breathing.

I had read about this spell before. It was favoured by high level necromancers, and worked by bursting blood vessels in the brain. It had worked.

I looked around the room for Asclepius. She was kneeling next to Ulrick, who had fallen behind me. In this moment I realized it must have been him who covered my ears, and I could not for the life of me understand why. He’d done similar things before, sucking the poison out of Tenebis back at Runeforge, and leaping in front of the flying icicle that would have killed Pigeon on the way here. He clearly had some sort of penchant for self-sacrifice. However perplexing that question was, I couldn’t quite bring myself to care at that moment with my lover lying limp in my arms.

Steranis was crouched over next to his war cat, who was down but still breathing. Tenebis and Edyan looked shaken, but ok.

It wasn’t long before the war cat was back on her feet. The wail had gotten to her, but she was tough, tougher than any of us, and with Steranis’ care she shook it off quickly. We retreated into an empty room, carrying the bodies of Domoki and Ulrick, and Pigeon began to prepare for the ritual to raise the dead. Tenebis, Steranis, and the cat stood guard.

Asclepius raised Ulrick first. I waited, cradling Domoki’s head in my lap. The rise and fall of his chest was missing, but other than that, it looked almost as though he might just be sleeping. The damage from the banshee’s wail was all internal, and at a glance, one would never know that he was dead.

When Ulrick opened his eyes and sat up, I looked up and spoke to him.

“Thank you,” I said. “Why did you do that?”

“Eh,” he answered, dismissively, “you haven’t died this whole time. I figured I’d keep a streak going.”

I blinked twice. The nonchalance with which he treated this was perplexing, but then, I didn’t know what kind of answer I had been expecting.

Ulrick moved off to the corner and started taking apart and cleaning his gun.

I moved Domoki into the place he had just vacated and Pigeon began her prayers anew. I held his hand the whole time, and I could feel his pulse returning, very slowly at first, then picking up strength and speed until finally his eyes fluttered open and I breathed out a sigh of relief.

“Domoki, you’ve got to stop dying on me,” I said. “It tears my soul out every time.”

“It is not a walk in the park for me, either, my flame,” he answered. “However, I feel the need to point out that Karzoug said I would die slowly. I died very quickly, just now. He has been making empty threats.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of that observation.

◊◊◊

With everyone back to life, we took a moment to discuss whether to press on, rest for the night, or retreat. Edyan had gotten very good, by this point, at concealing the entrance to his magic cottage, such that it seemed, at least to any of us, impossible to detect from the outside – the cottage itself (which had meanwhile grown into rather more of a palace) occupied an extradimensional space, the entrance to which was invisible. He was quite confident that we could rest inside without running the risk of being ambushed during our sleep. I wasn’t entirely sure that he wasn’t being _overly_ confident, and thought it best not to let our guard down. Besides, if we rested and refreshed our spells, so would Karzoug, and I just knew he would prepare another wail of the banshee tomorrow. Eventually we decided to press on.

When Tenebis kicked open the next door, he found himself face to face with a being not unlike himself in appearance. He hovered on white feathery wings in front of the hole in the outside wall that we had noticed on our fly-about before entering the tower. He glowed with a bright yellow light, and Tenebis’ own soft glow paled in comparison. I had never seen a creature quite as magnificent as this one, and there was no doubt in my mind that this was an Angel. What it was doing here, however, had me stumped.

The being backed up a pace or two, leaving an empty path between us and the hole in the outside of the tower. He spoke with a low, smooth, but powerful voice.

“Leave,” he said, gesturing to the opening, “or die.”

“He’s not acting of his own will,” whispered Domoki.

“Who is holding you here?” I asked the angel.

“Leave,” he repeated, “or die. I will not ask again.”

Steranis reached for the door and made to close it, hoping that leaving the room by another path, and not out through the hole in the side of the tower, would suffice. It did not.

The angel drew a sword of pure light from his hip and swung at Tenebis. Tenebis blocked the blow, but did not swing back. Instead, I saw that he was casting a spell, just as Edyan and I had already started to do.

“Leave this place! Go home!” commanded Edyan, as his spell went off and he pointed at the angel. In a flash the angel was gone, with not even a pile of dust in his place.

“What did you do?” I asked.

“He didn’t really want to fight us,” shrugged Edyan. “I sent him back to heaven. Who knows what was holding him here, and why he couldn’t get back on his own, but it’s of no consequence now. If he returns, it will take him a while to find us again. Plane shifting magic is not especially precise.”

“I’m glad we didn’t have to kill him,” I said, and we continued onward.

In the next room, we found a strange technological device. Shifting metal rings and pulsating orbs of energy filled the room, and in the center of this space, the device was holding open a portal through which I saw a vast, sprawling city of gold.

“Where is that?” asked a voice behind me, Ulrick’s, I think.

“Not where…” answered Edyan, “…when.”

“Oh, splendid, a portal to another time,” I mused. “I say we leave it the fuck alone and go back that way.”

Remarkably, no one took exception to that suggestion, and so back we went to the last fork in the hallway and took the remaining unopened door. Some giants charged at us, and we killed them, and in looting the room afterward, we found it rather bare except for a single lever on the far wall.

“Well… levers are for pulling,” said Edyan, and pulled, and the lever slid around to the opposite position with a smooth click. Nothing seemed to happen.

“Well, if I know anything about anything,” continued Edyan, “this lever controls the force field that we couldn’t get past back by Karzoug’s shrine.”

And so, back we went once again, retracing our steps to Karzoug’s shrine, where we found that Edyan was correct, and the force field that had blocked access to the door was down.

We moved in to our battle positions in silence: Tenebis, Steranis, and the war cat gathered around the door, Edyan and I ducked around the corner in the shrine, ready to duck out and cast spells, Domoki and Ulrick down the hallway with a clear shotline to the door. Pigeon was currently invisible and I wasn’t sure exactly where she was. Tenebis seemed to hesitate before kicking open the door, which allowed time for my thoughts to spiral out of control. Edyan’s right hand rested on the hilt of his new sword, a conflicted look on his face.

It seemed plausible that Karzoug himself might be behind this door – it was well protected, such that we had had to get past all of his minions in the rest of the tower before we could get here. I was excited and terrified at once. The past eight months all led up to this moment, and if Karzoug was indeed behind this door, it would all come down to the next three minutes – either we would triumph, or we would all be dead. I was especially worried for Domoki – he had made himself a nuisance to Karzoug already, and we knew Karzoug would be targeting him specifically. Domoki laughed his threats off, of course, but I found myself unable to do the same.

“Tenebis, hold on a second,” I said. “I need to do something before you open that door.”

I walked down the hallway to Domoki, pulling my ring of blinking off of my finger. I took his hands in mine and spoke:

“Domoki, Karzoug is going to be specifically targeting you. You need this more than I do. It will help you safe.”

I kept the details intentionally vague, knowing that if I told him that it also made you slightly less effective, he’d likely refuse it.

“I will be fine, my flame,” he answered. “You keep it.”

“Please,” I begged. “I would feel so much better knowing you had it. I didn’t make an ass of myself, so he won’t be going specifically for me. I can’t bear to see you die twice in one day.”

Domoki saw that I wasn’t going to let this one go. He nodded. His hands were already mine, so I slipped the ring onto his finger. I realized, just as I was doing so, what this must look like, and felt myself blush furiously. I quickly shuffled back to my battle position.

“Yeah, um… you can open the door now,” I mumbled.

“Are you sure,” teased Tenebis. “It kinda looked like you and Domoki were having a moment there. We can wait.”

“Just open the fucking door,” I snapped.

Tenebis shrugged and kicked open the door. It swung open effortlessly, slamming back into the wall at the end of its travel.

In the center of the tall room, about thirty feet above the floor, floated another portal device. Half a dozen concentric spinning rings whirled about the portal in the center, but I could not see through to the other side of this one. The portal was guarded by three giants and two lamia. There was no evidence of Karzoug. We killed the minions, and gathered around to inspect the portal device.

“So, smart guy,” I asked Edyan, “where – or when – do you think is on the other side of this one?”

Edyan was looking down at his fancy sword in some sort of trance, but he snapped out of it when I spoke to him.

He flew around the device a few times, casting some minor scrying spells.

“Not a when,” he answered, “definitely a where. It’s a demiplane. Halfway between here and the Plateau of Leng, I believe.”

“Great,” said Ulrick. “He’s on a whole ‘nother plane.”

“There’s no way he’s alone there, either,” I pointed out. “This was just the first layer of minions. There will be more of them in his little demi-plane with him.”

“We can’t wade into another plane with hardly any spells left,” said Edyan. “We have to rest.”

I reluctantly agreed with him. We retreated to a room out of sight of the portal and Edyan set up his sanctum. We entered through the invisible portal and sat down for a meal before bed. It was only a few moments later that I felt a foreign presence pushing into my mind. I tried to push it away, but it was too strong, and soon my mouth opened and spoke with the voice of Karzoug.

“Awww… Not coming to play tonight? Oh well. I shall bide my time, maggots.”

“Fuck off, Karzoug,” said Ulrick. “Give us back our sorcerer. We’ll deal with you in the morning.”

To my surprise, Karzoug did withdraw from my head at that point, I hoped because he could no longer sustain the connection across planes. I shook my head, let everyone know I was back and I was alright, and returned to my dinner.

Domoki took off the ring of blinking and passed it back to me.

“It seems like I am not the only one that needs to be protected from Karzoug,” he argued. “Take your ring back.”

“No,” I insisted. “I’m fine. He was just trying to scare us. You keep that on until Karzoug is dead.”

He looked at me again and saw that I was still not going to let this go, so back on to his finger it went.

We finished our dinners and hung around by the fire for a bit. None of us were really sleepy yet, just worn out after a lot of fighting. It wasn’t actually particularly late. I noticed that Edyan kept palming his sword, pulling it halfway out of the sheath and letting it fall back in, a pensive look on his face throughout. I wasn’t the only one to notice. Soon everyone was watching him, and it was Pigeon who finally raised one eyebrow at him in her womanly way of asking a question without actually asking a question.

“This sword is intelligent,” he said, quietly as if it was taking great effort to produce any sound at all. “It’s trying to make me… do things.”

I had heard of such cursed items before. The longer he had it, the more likely it would take over, and it was unlikely he would be able to get rid of it on his own. The sword needed to be removed from him, but he wouldn’t hand it over willingly. It had taken all of his strength just to tell us what he just had. He wouldn’t hand it over willingly… unless, of course, the sword wanted to go… if it had its eye on another victim. One who seemed – easier to manipulate. I looked up at Edyan.

“Hey, Edyan,” I started, “That’s a really nice sword…. We never really discussed who was getting it. You just sort of… took it. That hardly seems fair…” I looked down at the sword and tried to look envious, greedy.

I hoped Edyan would understand that I was trying to help him, while the sword would fall for my ruse. He looked back and forth between me and the sword. Then he slowly unbuckled the sheath from his belt and passed it across to me. I felt the sword’s influence wrestling for my mind the moment I touched it. I wouldn’t be able to fight it off for long.

Then Edyan shook himself, fully in control of his own mind once again.

“Urhador,” said Edyan, “thank you for taking that away from me. But I’m afraid you’re no better off now than I was a moment ago. We’re going to have to knock you out and tie you up tonight. It kept telling me to kill you all in your sleep.”

Of course, it made sense for them to take precautions around someone who was currently under the mental influence of a cursed item belonging to the enemy. And yet, I found myself stepping back and gripping the sword, ready to defend myself if they tried to come at me.

“Don’t you touch me,” I spat.

Domoki stepped towards me.

“Urhador, my flame,” he said, reaching towards me, “put down the sword.”

“Don’t you touch me!” I yelled this time, taking another step back and slapping away his hand. I slapped my hand over my own mouth. How could I have talked to him that way? I closed my eyes, shook my head, and opened my eyes again. I looked at Domoki, desperate to feel something. I remembered what love felt like, and I desperately wanted it back, but at this moment I looked at him and felt nothing but distrust.

“You’re not yourself,” said Domoki.

Steranis pulled a canvas bag out of his pack and walked towards me as well.

“Urhador,” said Steranis, “drop the sword in the bag.”

I noted that he was smarter in taking it from me than I had been in taking it from Edyan. Steranis would not be touching the sword. The only problem was, this time the sword did not want to go. But I wanted it to go – desperately. Looking at Domoki and feeling nothing was not something I could bear. I wouldn’t lose him. My arms felt like lead as I slowly willed them to reach out and held the sword over the bag. I tried as hard as I could to let go, but I couldn’t quite will myself to do it. I needed a push.

“Urhador,” said Domoki. “I need you to drop that sword. If you love me, you will do this for me.”

I knew I loved him. I knew it my head, I had said it dozens of times before. I knew the only thing that had changed was the sword which was still fighting for my mind. I looked at him again and still felt nothing. I did not know it in my heart, not at this moment, and that I could not bear. With one last gargantuan effort, I dropped the sword. Steranis tied a knot in the top of the bag and dropped it on the floor. I didn’t reach for it again. Domoki closed the two paces between us and pulled me into his arms. And I felt again.

“I love you,” I whispered.

Domoki pulled back out of the hug and looked me in the eyes.

“Promise me you will never touch that sword again,” he asked.

“You promise me you will keep that ring on,” I responded.

“Deal,” he agreed.

“I dunno, that sounds like a marriage proposal to me,” teased Edyan.

It was Domoki that blushed bright orange this time. Apparently he had not realized up until now what the others were thinking.

“Oh, shut up,” I said to Edyan. “I’m going to bed. We have a big fight tomorrow.”

◊◊◊

The next morning, as we got up and prepared for the fight, an uneasy silence hovered over our party. We all knew this was it: either we died today, all of us, or we triumphed, parted, and went our separate ways. Either way our adventure was at an end.

With weapons sharpened and oiled, spells prepared, and final prayers spoken, we gathered around the portal to the demiplane. Steranis did not seem to have his warcat with him this morning, which surprised me a little, but I did not ask about it.

“Demiplanes are limited in size,” Edyan informed us, “even a wizard as powerful as Karzoug would be unlikely to be able to create one larger than about an acre. I expect as soon as we fly through that portal, we will confronting him and whatever minions he has left all at once. Don’t ration your spells. Buff up, and let’s go.”

As we flew through the portal, we found ourselves in what looked like a natural cavern, hovering over a platform 200 feet above a lake of lava. Given their choice of surroundings, I had a feeling my main trick would be of little use against our foes.

Karzoug himself sat upon a grandiose throne on the opposite end of the cavern. At his side was Glorofaex, the blue dragon that I was certain we had killed in the city below. That told me that Karzoug possessed either the skill of necromancy, or that, like Asclepius, he was able to request favours of the Gods – different Gods, no doubt, but no less powerful ones.

Between ourselves and Karzoug stood a Runewell, alike to the one at Runeforge, but larger, and glowing even brighter. It was tended by a rune giant whom I suspected was a caster of some sort. Nearest us, two storm giants, wardens of thunder, hovered above ledges high above, flanking us.

I picked out the subtle shimmer of a wall of force in front of us, blocking our line of attack.

Karzoug was finished with his taunting, apparently, because he had no pithy quips or menacing monologues for us today. Instead, he opened the fight with a meteor swarm which he released from the stalactite-covered ceiling of the cavern. Then, from behind, an advancing wall of blades began to crowd us toward the unyielding wall of force. It was not a bad trap, I thought, expect for the fact that all of us were flying, and he had failed to remove “down and under” from our options. That is exactly what Ulrick did, flying off to the side of the platform we were on, ducking down towards the lava and under the wall of force to take a up a firing position off to my left.

Edyan could not be bothered with such plebian means of locomotion as flying, and instead used a short range teleport to move himself and most of the party out of the ever-shrinking box and towards our foe. I had cast spell resistance on myself and Domoki before we entered the demi-plane, figuring I would rather be protected from Karzoug’s spells than benefit from Edyan’s, and as such, we were left behind. Domoki followed Ulrick’s lead, however, flying down under the force barrier on his magic carpet and taking up his own firing position opposite Ulrick.

The wardens of thunder, perched on their ledges above, had begun to thrown lighting down into the mix. As I exited the trap myself, I heard Tenebis begin his battle-cry and charge into melee.

I let loose my magic in a prismatic spray towards my enemies, forsaking control in favour of power. Their spell resistance held, for now, but I felt if Edyan and I both kept chipping away at it, we would get through eventually.

Steranis lunged toward Karzoug with his polearm, and Glorofaex, at the last moment, jumped in front of his master and took the hit. His left wing was torn almost free from his body as Steranis drove his weapon deep into the dragon’s flesh.

“Shoulda’ stayed dead the first time, Glorofaex!” I muttered.

The rune giant that was tending to the well turned and directed a spell at Steranis, judging him to be the greatest threat. For a moment, Steranis winced, fighting off the effect of the spell, then he shook free.

Ulrick’s bullets had started to fly, but they seemed to be passing right through Karzoug, who had taken on some sort of incorporeal form. Though the bullets harmed him less than expected, it was still enough to distract him, causing the next spell he attempted to fizzle and die. Karzoug re-steeled himself and cast two more spells, first trapping Asclepius inside a box of force, and then reversing gravity on Tenebis, Steranis, and Edyan. These three were flying, though, so they quickly recovered from the surprise of the gravity reversal, returning to their positions upside-down, but unharmed.

Domoki focused his fire on the dragon, and though a few of his arrows flickered harmlessly into the ethereal plane (which he noticed, and was rather displeased with), the remaining ones landed neatly in the back of Glorofaex’s throat, and the dragon fell. Confusion and then anger passed over Domoki’s face as he noticed the arrows that had flickered out of this plane, but his face quickly regained its zen-like calm as he switched targets.

Karzoug had flown up near his Wardens of Thunder while we dealt with the dragon, and so it was in their direction that I targeted my next spell. Once again forsaking control for power, I didn’t know exactly what effect my magic would have, but I knew it would hurt. I was right, at least as far as the Thunder wardens were concerned. The first was hit with a jet of acid which burned through his armour and began to eat a hole through his flesh. The second simply disappeared, gone from this demiplane, and sent back either to the material plane, from whence we’d come, or to Leng. I didn’t much care which, but for his own sake, he had better hope it was not Leng. Karzoug himself was unaffected – nothing yet had gotten through to him personally, but as we chewed through his minions, I was confident we would wear him down eventually.

As Karzoug began to cast his next round of attacks, Ulrick began to shoot – he had been waiting, so as to catch Karzoug mid-cast once again and disrupt his concentration. This time, Karzoug was not fazed. His first spell knocked Ulrick backwards off of his magic carpet and into the wall behind him. Then he let loose the wail of the banshee, the ear-piercing terrifying scream from yesterday. For a fraction of a second, my existence was nothing but pain, pain and falling, and then it was just – nothing.

◊◊◊

_It was dark. I felt like I was floating. A gentle current flowed past me and carried me along – towards what, I did not know. There was no longer any pain. The darkness was complete, as was the silence, and as I floated, I allowed my other senses to explore the surroundings. The water – or whatever it was I was floating in – was cool against my skin, and just salty enough that I expended no effort in keeping afloat. I could smell the salt in the air, as well, along with a dank, musty smell that was rather unexpected given the presence of the current._

_I do not know how long I floated in that place. It could have been only seconds. It could have been minutes. It could have been hours, but for the fact that when I returned to the mortal realm, the fight with Karzoug was still ongoing. In any case, after some time in this floaty place, Pigeon’s voice spoke to me in my head with a clarity that surprised me._

_“Urhador,” she called. “Your service to Lady Dalenydra is not yet complete. Arise and return to battle.”_

_I did not give two shits about my service to Lady Dalenydra. But if I was being called back to battle, that meant Karzoug was still alive and the world was still in danger, and that would not do._

_I let go._

_I opened my eyes._

◊◊◊

My body had been moved to a ledge on the far side of the cavern from where I’d been when I lost consciousness.

I stood and took stock of my surroundings. Karzoug was still there, in melee now, opposite Tenebis, and lacking his minions. My allies were also still there, although Ulrick was picking himself up right next to me. I wondered if he had also been dead. There wasn’t time for wondering.

I lashed out at Karzoug with chains of light. As they manifested around him and coiled around trying to pin his arms to his sides, he quickly cast a counterspell and sent them flying back at me.

Then, for the first time since we had stepped through the portal, I heard Karzoug speak. He stared straight at Asclepius with a terrifying intensity in his eyes.

“Oh, is that how we are going to play this game?” he asked. “So be it.”

Then with a wave of his hand, the blue dragon Glorofaex and the Rune Giant, who must have fallen while I was out, rose up out of the pit of lava below, restored to life. To be fair, I saw his point. If Pigeon was going to somehow raise myself and Ulrick from the dead mid-combat, I supposed it was fair game for him to do the same.

The dragon pulled itself up onto a ledge and shook off its wings, spraying glistening drops of lava every which way. They solidified in the air and the shower of pebbles impacted the cavern walls and bounced back down into the lava pool.

“Well, alright, then,” said Edyan, as he pulled a small stone figurine of a cat out of his coat pocket and placed it on the ledge with the dragon, muttering the words of a spell. The figurine grew quickly, and soon we found that Steranis’ warcat was with us once again. Ulrick switched targets to the Rune Giant.

With the Ulrick and the warcat holding off the dragon and Rune Giant, the rest of us kept our focus on Karzoug himself. Tenebis and Steranis were slowly chipping away at him, once in a while landing a blow and knocking him off balance. Domoki’s arrows no longer seemed to go right through him, so it seemed someone, most likely Edyan, had succeeded in stripping him of his incorporeal protection.

I tried again with my chains of light, and this time Karzoug was ever so briefly paralyzed before he managed to dispel the effect. We were starting to get through his spell defenses as well. Edyan noticed.

With a nod of thanks to me, Edyan cast the last spell of the fight at Karzoug. This time, it was too much. His concentration taken up by the fighters right up in his face, the arrows lodged in his torso, and the effort of countering my spells, his counterspell to Edyan’s attack was not fast enough. In the blink of an eye, the great mage was transformed into a small white rabbit.

“Seriously?” I asked Edyan, “the rabbit trick?”

“What?” he shrugged, “it worked.”

It had indeed – sort of – worked. On the ledge between Steranis and Tenebis stood a completely ordinary snowy white rabbit – completely ordinary but for its glowing red eyes. For a moment, Steranis and Tenebis seemed a little unsure what to do with it, but Domoki showed no such hesitation. His arrows continued to fly, and mere seconds later, the white rabbit was more of a chunky red paste.

“I’m – not sure that was necessary,” I called out to Domoki.

“It had glowing red eyes!” he protested. “I wasn’t taking any chances!”

He flew his magic carpet over to me and climbed off of it.

“Are you ok, my dragon?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” I said. In matter of fact, I had just been dead, and did not feel particularly fine at all, but that was a matter to discuss at another time, if at all. I looked around the rest of the cave.

Steranis’ warcat was chewing on the remains of the blue dragon, and the Rune Giant had fallen once again to Ulrick’s barrage of bullets. Yet the Runewell to which he had been tending was still glowing – brighter, it seemed, every moment.

“Let’s get out of here,” said Steranis. But before we had time to move, the runewell erupted. There was a blinding flash of light and a thunderous noise. I turned away and squinted my eyes shut. When the explosion died down, I looked back to see the runewell shattered, and dozens – no, hundreds – of small wisps of multi-coloured light flying away from it.

“It’s releasing trapped souls,” said Edyan.

The souls flew around the cavern a few times, some passing through the walls, others simply fading away. One of them, however, made straight for the body of the blue dragon Glorofaex, whom, if I was counting correctly, we’d killed three times now.

“Not again…” I whispered, as the dragon once again began to twitch. Domoki readied his bow. But Glorofaex, after crawling to his feet, did not attack. He bowed his head in surrender, not wishing to die again.

“Glorofaex, I accept your surrender,” I said.

“I am not Glorofaex,” responded the dragon.

That seemed unlikely. He looked identical to the dragon we had killed in the city below.

“Glorofaex was my… brother, you might say,” he explained.

“My apologies,” I answered. “What is your name?”

“I have no name,” responded the dragon.

“Why not?” I asked.

“I was Karzoug’s mount,” he said. “I was not permitted to have a name. I was his property, and he did not want me thinking too much of myself.”

“Very well,” I said. “Karzoug is dead now, and you are alive and freed from his service. What do you want your name to be?”

“I don’t know,” said the dragon. “I have never had a choice before. I shall think on it.”

As the dragon and I spoke, our surroundings gradually began to change. The air cooled, the walls of the cavern fell away, and the ledges that we were standing on gave way to snow. We were soon back on the summit of Mhar-Massif.

“What will you do with me?” asked the dragon. “Am I your mount now?”

I shook my head.

“No,” I answered. “A dragon is not a slave. You do not belong to me. What you do now is up to you, but if we hear that you are causing trouble, there will be consequences. There are aurochs on this mountain that you can hunt, and caves that will shelter you. I suggest you start with that.”

The dragon looked perplexed at this, lost even. Then he looked at Domoki, whose bow was still at the ready.

“Will that one shoot me if I fly away now?” he asked.

I reached over and placed my own hand in front of the tip of Domoki’s arrow. He lowered his bow.

“He will not,” I assured the dragon.

The dragon turned, and with a few beats of his massive blue wings, he was off.


	33. Parting Ways

And so it was that I found myself standing at the top of a snow-peaked mountain with my six allies, unsure of what came next. Our mission was complete. Karzoug was dead, and Varisia was safe, for now.

“So… what now?” I asked, out loud.

“I can’t see,” complained Ulrick.

“The flash from the runewell got you too?” asked Pigeon.

“Yeah. Can you fix it?” he asked.

“Not today,” she replied. “The blessing of Dalenydra is spent for the day. You and I will both have to wait until tomorrow to see again.”

“Look, I understand there’s probably going to be all sorts of heartfelt goodbyes,” said Edyan, “but can we do them somewhere warm? This mountain is fucking freezing.”

We gathered together and Edyan teleported us all back to the Rusty Dragon. It was where this had all began, and I thought it fitting that it should be where it ended as well.

Over the next few days, the party slowly trickled away. Steranis and Asclepius returned to Runeforge, where they made it their business to save the immortal goldfish who had once been men. Tenebis left at the same time, though I’m not sure if he went with Asclepius or if they parted ways. As I understood it, most of the men-turned goldfish ended up dying, but this, to me at least, seemed preferable to an eternity of swimming in circles accompanied by nothing but one’s own thoughts.

Edyan returned to the library under Jorgenfist to shut himself away with books for several months. Ulrick left on the third day and did not say where he was going. As I had never heard Ulrick really open up about anything, this did not surprise me.

At that point only Domoki remained, and I was still deciding whether or not I should tell him that I had died in that final fight. Now that I’d had some time to collect my thoughts, my experience of death terrified me. Was the quiet, floaty place where I’d ended up my final destination? I desperately hoped not. Perhaps it was just some in-between place and I had not passed fully over. That would explain why I was alone there. When I’d spoken to Domoki after his own death at Skull’s Crossing, he had described his experience of where he ended up as “quiet and mossy” and I supposed that meant he was alone there. He had not seemed bothered by that, though. I had assumed that was simply because he hadn’t any loved ones who had passed before him, and so there was nobody whom he was waiting to see again. For my own part, I had been hoping to see Lillian when I died, and now that that had not happened I began to fear that my eventual death would result in an eternity of lonesomeness. I was certain, still, that Lillian’s soul was in a good place – she was still a child when she died, and her soul was spotless – but for my own part, it seemed I had not earned my admittance to paradise.

Part of me longed to pour out these worries to my lover, to have him gather me in his arms and whisper in my ear that he loved me and that everything would be ok. But as much as I wanted to, I couldn’t do it. I remembered the crushing despair I had felt when Domoki had died at Skull’s Crossing, and again at the Pinnacle of Avarice, even though that time I had been certain that he was coming back. And though I was already back this time, I did not want to get Domoki thinking about my death. The truth was that Oread were exceptionally long lived, and it was a given that I would die of old age long before he did. And so my death – my final death, the one from which I would never return – was something he would eventually have to face, if we were still together when that time came. And there was no need to make him think about that any sooner than necessary.

The next morning, Domoki was packing his things.

“Where are you going?” I asked him.

“Back to the monastery,” he responded. “I should let them know that I have accomplished the quest they sent me on. Will you come with me?”

“Sure…” I responded, “but I’m not exactly expecting a warm welcome…”

“Why not?” he asked.

“I’ve taken their prize archer and corrupted him,” I teased. “I don’t think they’ll be terribly thrilled by that, is all.”

Domoki cocked his head and thought about that for a moment.

“You may be right,” he answered. “I don’t know. If you don’t want to come, I won’t be offended. I can go on my own and I’ll return here afterwards.”

“Well, you see, it’s like this:” I explained. “If I go with you, you can describe the place to me in detail and we can teleport there. We can be there and back in a day. If you go on your own, you’ll be flying on the ki mat, and that will take weeks. Why would I spent weeks here without you just to avoid having an Abbot look down his nose at me?”

And so we went together back to the monastery where Domoki had trained.

The monastery was nestled just below the tree line one the south side of a snow capped peak. Its stone walls blended into the mountain side behind it, its simple construction unassuming but with an air of history. I wondered how long it had been there. We were greeted at the door by a young, blonde-haired human man.

“Brother Domoki!” he said, surprise evident in his voice. “You’ve returned.”

The two monks bowed to each other in greeting.

“Yes,” said Domoki plainly. “Is Father Kilzar available?”

“We shall see,” answered the doorman.

He led us down the main corridor, up a narrow flight of stairs, to a plain looking wooden door upon which he knocked.

“Yes?” answered the voice of an old man from within.

“Brother Domoki is here to see you, Father,” said the doorman, whose name I still did not know, as Domoki hadn’t bothered with introductions, and the young monk was thoroughly ignoring me.

“Well, let him in then,” answered the Abbot, and the door was opened and Domoki walked through. I wondered if I should wait outside, but the monk holding the door did not close it immediately, so I walked in after Domoki and the door was shut behind me. The Abbot raised one eyebrow at me, but then, without speaking, gestured to two wooden chairs in front of his desk. We sat down and Domoki began to speak. He told the tale of our adventure from the beginning, not as eloquently as I would have, but it was a captivating enough tale that it did not really need embellishing. The Abbot listened in silence, speaking not a single word until Domoki had completed his tale (I was particularly impressed by his ability to keep silent when it became evident that Domoki was not going to conceal the nature of our relationship – he didn’t go into any details, but from the way he told his tale, it was clear to anyone with a brain that we were lovers).

When the Abbot spoke again, it was measured.

“You have done well,” he said to Domoki. “It gives me great relief to hear that the world is safe from Runelord Karzoug.” He glanced at me. “I expect you will not be staying?” he asked Domoki.

“No, Father” answered Domoki, with no further explanation.

“Very well,” said the Abbot. “Then go, with my gratitude and blessing, and make your way in the world.”

Domoki stood and bowed deeply, then turned to leave. I was just standing up to follow him out when, to my surprise, Father Kilzar turned and spoke directly to me:

“Take good care of him,” he said with a smile.

I blinked twice, surprised at what seemed to be, if not an expression of approval, at least an acknowledgement of our relationship.

“I will,” I promised.

I bowed to the Abbot as I had seen Domoki do, and followed him out.

Back out in the hallway, the monk who had let us in to see the Abbot was nowhere to be seen.

“Is there anyone else here you’d like to see?” I asked Domoki.

“Yes,” he said. “I should go show my face to the archery instructor.”

And so we went out back to the archery range, where a middle aged Samsaran man was practicing.

Domoki stopped as soon as he could see the target, then back up a little so it was once again out of his sight, and let loose a trick shot that bounced off of two walls and landed in the target barely an inch away from the Samsaran’s last arrow.

The Samsaran man turned around and Domoki stepped back into his view.

“Brother Domoki! You have surpassed your teacher,” called out the Samsaran. “That is as it should be.”

“Brother Rhymus,” answered Domoki. “You taught me well.”

Domoki closed the distance between them, and finally I saw the first sign of affection I had seen anyone at this monastery display. Brother Rymus wrapped his arms around Domoki in a big hug, which seemed to surprise Domoki more than it surprised me.

“So! You have returned triumphant from your mysterious quest!” said Rhymus, as he pulled away from the hug. “And who is your friend?” he asked, as I joined them on the range.

“This is my…” Domoki paused, deciding what word to use, “…partner, Urhador.”

Rhymus looked surprised, but not too offput, and he shook my hand and introduced himself.

“So, Brother Domoki, tell me all about your adventure,” said Rhymus.

And so Domoki told the story again, slightly less matter-of-factly this time, as I could tell he was talking to a friend and not merely reporting to a superior. Rhymus interrupted with questions from time to time, many of them about me, and Domoki waited for me to answer these ones myself. We spent a couple of hours on the archery range with Rhymus, and when it came time for us to go, Rhymus seemed sad to see his former pupil leaving again. He wished us well and gave another Domoki hug, which he seemed slightly more prepared for this time, before we teleported back to the Rusty Dragon.

◊◊◊

It was later that night, when we were trying to get to sleep, that Domoki opened up to me about something else that had been on his mind.

“Remember the dragon, Glorofaex’s brother, who didn’t have a name?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said.

“He reminded me of myself,” Domoki admitted.

“How so?” I asked.

“He had never made a decision before,” answered Domoki. “He belonged to Karzoug, and he always did as he was told. When his master died, he seemed lost, unsure what to do with himself. If it weren’t for you, that would be me. I was never a slave, but likewise, I never really made a decision for myself before I met you. Life was very structured at the monastery. We all ate the same things, slept at the same times, attended classes (though mine were different from others). And then when I was sent away on this quest, I had no say in that, either. I’m not complaining. I didn’t want it any other way. But I obeyed because it was all I knew. My life was dedicated to the Gods, and I had no qualms with that. Being with you was the first decision I ever made solely for myself. Now that our quest is over, and the Abbot has given me his blessing to leave the monastery for good, if I didn’t have you, I would be just as lost as that dragon that we left on the top of Mhar Massif.”

I took some time to think about this. Domoki was a patient man, and did not expect responses right away when we talked about important things. After a minute or so, I answered:

“Do you think we should go back for him?”

“Yes,” said Domoki.

◊◊◊

The next morning I teleported us back to Mhar Massif and we began to search for the orphaned dragon. After some searching, we found him in a cave halfway down the mountain, munching on a freshly slaughtered hill giant. I was going to admonish him for hunting sentient beings for food, but I remembered Domoki’s words and it occurred to me that he did not know better. He had never been taught respect for sentient life, and while intellectually I was certain he understood the difference between a giant and an auroch, he just didn’t care.

I landed at the mouth of his cave and waited for him to notice me.

“Oh, it’s you again,” he said, when he finally looked up.

“Have you chosen a name for yourself?” I asked.

“Yes,” he answered. “You may call me Reaper.”

I sighed. This was going to be a challenge.

Reaper’s story is long enough to fill its own book, so I shall not tell it in detail now. The short version of it is that we spent the next year with him, trying to teach him right from wrong, with occasional help from Asclepius. Our adopted dragon never really developed what one might call compassion, but over a long period of time we managed to get him to a point that Pigeon called “high-functioning sociopath”. He understood that hunting sentients was simply less bother than it was worth, as it often led to one becoming hunted oneself. When we had gotten as far as we thought we were likely to get with Reaper, we began to leave him alone for periods of time again to see how he fared.

Domoki and I purchased a plot of land just outside of Magnimar and built ourselves a house on it. We built it the mundane way, with sweat and tears and a fair amount of cursing. I was, at times, tempted to take magical shortcuts, but I resisted the temptation. There was something about the hard work that went into building this home that made it a home, and not just a house.

Our new home was just under an hour’s walk from my parents’ place in the Elven quarter: just close enough that it wasn’t too much bother to visit, but just far enough to discourage any unannounced visits on their part. Ameiko was an easy teleport away in Sandpoint (Domoki had at first offered to live in Sandpoint, so I could stay close to her, but I reminded him that with teleportation, physical distances were somewhat moot).

As our checkups on Reaper grew further apart (he was keeping himself out of trouble, for the most part) we found we had more and more free time. I purchased a commercial property in the city and started up a new glassworks, taking on a few apprentices from Rag’s End. When word got out that the only survivor of the Sandpoint Glassworks massacre was starting up a new business, I did get a fair amount of cautious interest from Magnimar’s middle class, but those youth had other apprenticeship options available to them, so I tended to favour those for whom I knew the glassworks was their only hope at improving their station in life.

Domoki started up an archery school, and while many of his pupils became frustrated with his methods (he spent the entire first year of their instruction focusing on meditation before they were allowed to touch a bow), those that stayed with him achieved remarkable success. Magnimar’s city guard soon became interested, and most of Domoki’s pupils eventually either went away adventuring, or found stable employment with the guard.

◊◊◊

We had settled in to this routine for quite some time. We had our home, and our respective students, which kept us busy and content enough, but something was still missing in our lives, and we could both feel it. One night, as we were sitting out on our back porch watching the stars, Domoki broached the topic.

"Ÿridhrenor?" he asked. He had learned to pronounce my Elven name by this point, but rarely called me by it. It was difficult for him and he reserved it for special moments. And so I knew at once that what he was about to say was very important.

"Yes, my Gem?"

“Do you remember right at the beginning of our adventure,” h started, “when we had to deal with the goblin in that boy’s closet in Sandpoint?”

“Aeren Barrett, yes, I remember,” I said.

“Well…” continued Domoki, “when I saw you take him under your wing afterwards… I thought… I couldn’t help but think you’d make a good father.”

I smiled.

“How come you never had children?” he asked.

“I wasn’t willing to live a lie,” I answered, “and the orphanages in Sandpoint and Magnimar don’t adopt out to single men.”

Domoki looked surprised at that information.

“So you’ve looked into it then?” he asked, rhetorically at this point, as it was clear that I had.

“Yes,” I said. “A long time ago. But things have changed – not in terms of their policies, I don’t think, but in terms of our situation. We’re rich, Domoki. And people are greedy. I expect… that at least one of the orphanages in the area might be willing to make an exception to such a policy if there were a… significant enough financial donation on the table.”

“Urhador!” he chastised, “Are you suggesting bribing an orphanage into giving us a child?”

“Yes, I am,” I answered. “What do you think?”

“Oddly enough, I can’t seem to bring myself to object to that plan,” he said, hesitantly. “Bribery is wrong, but what seems more wrong is denying children homes with loving parents just because both of those potential parents happen to be men.”

“There’s someone I want to talk to first, though, if we’re going to do this,” I said.

I cast a spell and attempted to contact Asclepius. She responded, allowing the telepathic link.

_Pigeon, I need you to be brutally honest with me,_ I began.

_You’re a shameless flirt, you wear too much cologne, and you have a bit of an anger management problem,_ she answered.

_Thank you, but I meant with my question that I am about to ask._

_Go ahead, then._

_Are Domoki and I terrible parents, or was Reaper a lost cause?_

_Oh, Urhador, I had no idea you were worried about that,_ she began. _Reaper is not a creature of nature. He did not hatch from an egg, like other dragons. Karzoug created him out of raw magic to be his mount, and crafted him perfectly for that purpose. Reaper never had the ability to love – Karzoug did not need that in a mount – and yet you and Domoki did an admirable job with him. You got much further than I ever expected you to. Of course, I couldn’t have told you I expected you to fail, at the time, or it would have become a self-fulfilling prophecy._

_That… that is information I did not have._

_If you want to know how you’d do with a humanoid child, _she continued,_ you already have your answer. Ameiko is more your daughter than she was Longiku’s, and she turned out admirably, wouldn’t you say?_

_Thank you, Asclepius, _I answered, _that means a lot to me._

◊◊◊

It had taken a fair amount of smooth-talking, as well as, as I had expected, a substantial monetary donation to the orphanage, but finally, today was the day. I had, by now, come a long way with the training of my first apprentice, and felt comfortable leaving him in charge of the glassworks part-time. Domoki had similarly chosen a former pupil to employ part time as an instructor at his archery school. We met up after work at the orphanage, nervous, but excited. Alana Brightman, the director of the orphanage, met as at the door and brought us inside to meet our daughter.

As soon as I laid eyes on her, I was in love. She was two months old, and she had an adorable smile, a perfect little button nose, and striking green eyes. She reached out to Domoki and he picked her up, and I could see that he was as taken with her as I was.

Her mother had died in childbirth, and Ms Brightman had waited to give her a name until she found adoptive parents for the infant – we were free to name her ourselves. We named her Lillian, after my late sister. Standing in that room in the orphanage, the three of us, I felt for the first time that my life was complete.

If you are reading this, Lillian (hopefully when you are quite grown, and not because your went snooping in Papas’ room when you weren’t supposed to), now you know the story of my great adventure: how I met your father, how we saved the world together, and how we met you. I love you, my little flower.

And if you are reading this, Domoki, I’m sorry about the rude things I said about you in Chapter 1. I was wrong about you. I’ve learned since then not to judge people quite so quickly. I love you, my gem.


End file.
